The Altar of Human Sacrifice
by TresMaxwell
Summary: Sequel to Worshiping at the Modern Altar. Raisa has escaped and the Avengers must deal with a new threat to humanity: the inevitably of evolution. The Brotherhood will stop at nothing to eliminate the human scourge, and Raisa Golovin is the key to their success. Steve/Tony established.
1. Collision of History and Future

A/N: Oh my lord, moar! So yeah, when I say I'm going to leave something alone for a while, I think that's code for "I'm freaking writing the first chapter RIGHT NOW". Because I can't leave well enough alone when there are ideas buzzing around my head.

First chapter is a lot of fluff. Shut up, they earned it after the last story and Magneto is a mean bastard, so they have a lot they're about to face.

And, as you all know, I rarely work with a beta. If you find mistakes, point them out so I can fix them.

Edit: It has been pointed out to me that Plexiglass is not the same as the higher grade stuff that is actually good against bullets. After some research, I've decided to change things around.

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Tony Stark had never been accused of doing something half-assed. When he decided on an idea, he pushed the throttle to full and hit it with everything he had. Vacationing was no exception. Since Steve requested that they get the marriage certificate signed without pomp or ceremony, Tony pulled out all the stops for their honeymoon. He'd found a remote, traditional hotel at the southern foot of Sicily and rented every room, mostly to keep anyone from lodging noise complaints.

The hotel owner was incredibly accommodating. Considering how much Tony was paying him, he ought to be. Tony had the hotel reserved for two weeks and he wanted everything to be perfect. He knew hotel staff wasn't accustomed to rearranging furniture and accepting personal shipments for their guests, so he'd chipped in plenty of tips and additional fees to make sure it was all done right.

His wedding gift for Steve probably could've waited for them to come home from their trip, but patience was the other thing no one ever accused Tony of having. After teasing Steve about their first dance being in New York's city hall, he'd discovered the soldier had never learned how to dance, that he'd always waited for the right person. Tony's plan formed in microseconds and fell into place after only two brief phone calls. Thankfully, it fit in with another project he'd been planning for weeks.

Watching confusion, then surprise, then joy shift across Steve's face in waves, Tony got his reward. They were staying in the largest suite available, but instead of the lounging couches in the middle of the room and the television along the wall, there was an empty, bare floor and a restored record player with a stack of albums.

The rest of the room was the same as it was online. There was a king-sized bed against the whitewashed stucco wall, their suitcases already laid out on the burnt orange comforter. The balcony doors were open, as were all the arched windows. Gauzy curtains moved gently in the breeze, bringing the scent of the sea into their room. Beyond the covered balcony was the Mediterranean, so startlingly blue it looked like a carefully doctored photograph.

"Oh, Tony," his husband breathed and walked over to pick up the first case of albums from the stack.

He looked at them reverently, holding the box with one hand as he flipped through the artists with the other. His fingers caressed the faded front of each before he took the edge and turned to the next. Tony grinned at the flicker of recognition Steve had as he read the album titles.

When Tony set out to restore a phonograph for Steve, he'd started the tedious process of hunting down records from the twenties all the way through 1945. Though there were still a few he wanted to buy, the collection consisted of most of the popular bands and musicians through the roaring twenties, the depression and the Second World War. It was going to be his wedding present anyway, but Tony wanted it all shipped to Sicily to meet them.

Tony poured them both a glass of local wine from the bar and brought one to Steve, "You're learning how to dance, big guy, if we have to go through all two hundred of them."

Steve glanced up at him, his face lit up like Times Square, "How did you find all of these?"

"I looked. Actually, a program I wrote for Jarvis looked, I just decided which ones to buy when he gave me the daily list," Tony explained, setting the wine down on a low table when Steve didn't acknowledge it. The soldier was too busy reading the back of a Count Basie album. Tony's smile turned fond and he placed a kiss on Steve's t-shirt covered shoulder, "Pick one. Let's listen to it."

Just the thought of deciding on one made Steve's eyebrows knit. There were so many of them and Steve hadn't even seen them all. More waited back at the tower in a new shelving unit Tony had personally installed in the media room. Sensing how conflicted the blond was, Tony set his wine glass next to Steve's untouched one and paged through the other boxes until he found Louis Armstrong.

He handed it to Steve, "You should put the first one on. Although, technically, it's not the first one. I had to test it to make sure it worked. I've never worked with such old tech before."

Steve took the black disc in his hands and set it gently on the turntable. Once the needle was in place and the record started rotating, the immortal, brassy call of years long past crackled from the pavilion. Steve stood watching the album, his back to Tony. Tension gripped Steve's shoulders hard enough that Tony could see it through his shirt. Steve was usually in shirts that were several sizes too small for him, like he'd never gotten used to shopping for his new frame. It made it easy to see every twitch and movement of his oversized physique.

Wondering if he'd made the right decision about giving Steve the albums, Tony wrapped his arms around the bigger man from behind. Louis's trumpet wailed in the quiet. "I wanted to give you a piece of your past back," Tony's voice was so soft it sounded like an apology.

Resting his cheek against the nape of Steve's neck, Tony berated himself for the phonograph. It brought back everything Steve had lost with the sounds of a time he'd never see again. He should've known better. As Steve's muscles corded under his touch, Tony tried to figure out what to say to spackle the damage.

"You have no idea how much this means to me."

Tony's worry melted. There was a faint tremor blurring Steve's words, but Tony could hear the appreciation in them, "Pretty sure I've got a notion. We've only been dating, what is it now? A year? And then there's the whole marriage thing-"

Steve turned and enveloped him, burying his face in Tony's shoulder. He lifted Tony up so he wasn't bent in an awkward position, Tony's toes scraping the floor. Tony stroked his hair. There was still tension in Steve's enhanced body, enough of it that Tony's chest ached for him.

There were a lot of subjects they didn't tread on, Tony's father was one, and Steve's overwhelming regret was another. The soldier put on a brave face for everyone, hiding the time he'd lost behind his awe of the new century. It took months before Tony saw hints of his regret, noticing it came out most often when Steve was working the punching bag. Their connection helped, but it didn't take away the memories that suffocated like cling wrap.

"Don't cry, babe," Tony crooned against his ear, wrapping his unoccupied arm around Steve's neck, the other tucking hair behind the soldier's ear. "If you don't like Louis, I can change it." Formed as a jest, Tony left the question unspoken: _Do I need to turn it off?_

"I'm not crying."

"Then our ceiling has a leak."

Steve snorted and pinched his side. When he drew away, his blue eyes were dry, but there was a trace of sadness swimming in the irises, "It's wonderful, thank you."

When Steve set him on his feet, Tony left his arms draped across the bigger man's shoulders. Thinking they were already in a good position for dancing, Tony reached back to shift Steve's hold from his waist to his hipbones and laced his fingers behind Steve's neck. He swayed to the beat of the music and Steve followed the action. Their feet moved in tandem, Tony leading the slow spin around the room.

"This isn't so hard," Steve said.

"That's because this is not dancing. Any junior high kid can do this." Steve's cheeks flushed and he shot him a half-hearted glare. With a smile, Tony stepped in closer so their chests touched, "What's really going to throw you are things like the Swing and the Waltz, or the Foxtrot. We don't have the right music for it, but I could teach you how to do the Samba."

Bewildered, Steve asked, "How do you know so many dances?"

"Rich parents, lots of parties." Tony shrugged. "And I went to cotillion classes, but if you ever tell anybody that, I'll leak that you wear patriotic underwear."

"They were a gift."

"Trust me, they were a gag gift... Wait, who gave you boxers as a present?"

"Clint, same year he got those Mickey Mouse pajamas for Thor."

Tony rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Two obvious gag gifts and they both wore them. He'd seen Thor in the stupid Disney pajamas a hundred times. He wore them every time he stayed at the tower, possibly because they were the only sleepwear he owned and there had been loud complaints the first time he'd wandered downstairs naked. Not that Tony had really minded, the blond was a god and was undeniably built like one, but Banner and Barton had not approved.

Thinking back, Tony was certain that was also the same Christmas Clint had given him the shirt that said 'Kiss Me, I'm Iron Man'. It was something that had been floating around the shops in Soho at the time, along with another shirt that said 'Bitch, Please. I'm Iron Man'. Tony suspected Agent Barton hadn't seen that one, or he would've bought it too. He couldn't really rail Steve for donning his gag gift, because he'd put on the shirt a few times.

The song changed to something more upbeat and Steve's hands made their way up the curve of Tony's spine, "Let's start with Swing. That's one I'm familiar with."

"Thought you said you'd never danced," Tony teased against the column of the soldier's throat, his beard scraping on the skin as he kissed a trail over his jugular.

"Just watched."

His statement sobered Tony's humor. Sitting back into Steve's hands, he caught the bright blue eyes and held them. They continued to sway to Armstrong's deep voice while Tony's mind mulled on Steve sitting at the edge of a dance. Always watching, never called to join. It bothered him that no one would give him a chance, but what bothered him even more was that he would've been the first to judge Steve by his cover. He couldn't deny that their relationship had started because he was physically attracted to the soldier. Now that he knew the depth of Steve's kindness and strength, Tony was ashamed of the fact.

"Hey," Steve said and brushed his fingertips along Tony's jaw, sensing his mood shift, "Thought you were going to teach me how to Swing?" He tilted his head to the right and studied Tony as though he was waiting for an answer.

Tony nodded before he slipped out of Steve's hold, "Right, Swing. Louis's good, but we need a bigger band."

While he paged through the albums, he sipped at his abandoned wine. The flavor exploded across his tongue, rich and fruity the way wine was meant to taste but had forgotten how when it came to the states. Tony rarely drank wine, but he planned on sending a crate of the local brand home.

Grabbing Benny Goodman out of the stack, Tony changed out the records and set the needle on the grooved black surface. A much bigger sound that Armstrong filled the room, the beat fast and the brass loud. Tony turned to find Steve tapping his foot with a soft smile. He looked up at Tony, the smile widening.

"I remember when this song first aired."

Tony returned his grin. He had a quip ready about Steve showing his age, but decided against it. It wasn't worth scratching Steve's genuine delight over the music. "Alright," Tony started as he got positioned with their toes nearly touching. He guided Steve's hand to his waist, letting him have the male role since it was easier for Tony to duck under his arm than vice-versa. "Feel the beat of the music and time every step to that."

At first, it was all fumbling and laughter. Steve stepped on his toes twice, cringing each time and apologizing profusely. Tony hit his head on Steve's elbow during a spin and they both took a break for wine. Afterwards, Tony changed the way he was giving instructions, modeling the movements without Steve then integrating them together. They only became slightly more successful with the new tactic.

Even with as uncoordinated as they started, they moved in harmony before the album ended. Finally at the speed of the music, Tony rotated in and out of Steve's hold, going to the end of their reach so only their fingers connected and ducking under Steve's arm to spin in close. Steve repeated the action in reverse, Tony lifting his arm high for Steve to get beneath it. Their feet tapped rhythmically on the terracotta tiles.

As the song came to a close, Tony rolled into Steve's torso, but Steve didn't let him leave. He grabbed Tony around the waist, waiting until Tony lifted his chin before he kissed him. Their kiss didn't match the pace of the dancing, it was slow and languid. Steve's tongue passed over Tony's lower lip, leaving it slick so their mouths slid when they made contact again.

The record player got to the end of the Goodman tracks and played the soft crackling noise that hid at the edge of the disc. Tony hardly noticed. He turned his body flush with Steve, his groan taking over the silence as Steve's broad hands snuck under his shirt. The callused palm rubbed Tony's abdomen in circles, moving steadily upward until his thumb brushed the bottom edge of the arc.

Tony's new arc was based around the vibranium, but now had a piece of double-layer polycarbonate sheeting as a cover. Metal crossed through the middle of the two layers to strengthen them. It was cut in a lattice pattern of triangles to let out the light, none of them big enough for a bullet to pass through. Tony didn't think it was as visually appealing as past arcs, but it was certainly better protected. He'd done the testing with one of Natasha's pistols before he'd installed it.

As his hand connected with the piece of machinery, Steve broke away from Tony's mouth to look at it. He circled the edge with his thumb as reverently as the albums, picking Tony up so he could place a kiss at the center. Tony watched him with half-lidded eyes. Wrapping his legs around Steve's ribcage while the big man paid his respects, Tony lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Tony understood why Steve revered the reactor, why he almost seemed to worship it when they were in bed. It kept him alive.

Tony considered the arc reactor one of his crowning achievements, the only thing higher in his mind was the MARK. Despite the fact that Steve pressed his lips to the cover almost every time they crawled into bed together, Tony felt a shiver of pleasure when Steve's eyes fluttered closed and the light played off the slight crease between his brows. Tony stroked the soldier's cheek and Steve blinked and refocused on his face. He kissed Tony's mouth again, his lips hot from the arc.

"You want to put a new record on?" Tony asked in a breath, slanting their lips together before Steve could answer.

Steve carried him to the phonograph without breaking their kiss. Only when he was reaching blindly to find the wooden casing of the player did Steve turn his head. Keeping one hand braced under Tony's hips, he picked up the needle and flipped the album over. The swing music resumed, the iconic drum solo of Sing, Sing, Sing thumping out of the pavilion.

"I actually know this one," Tony said with a smile.

He couldn't often say that about something from Steve's past. Knowing that was what Steve felt like every day living in this century, Tony allowed himself to show his happiness in having a connection. He'd long ago stopped rolling his eyes when Steve got excited about knowing a pop-culture reference. Instead of thinking it was pathetic Steve grinned over understanding what flying monkeys were, Tony found his recognition adorable. Tony couldn't imagine losing seventy years, so he could give Steve his small pleasures.

Steve took him to the bed, "Yeah? It's a little before your time."

"Doesn't mean I haven't heard it."

They paused at the foot of the bed, Tony scowling at their suitcases. Steve set him down and started to clear off the surface. While he worked, Tony toed off his shoes. The flowing curtains at the balcony doors caught his eye and his fingers paused on the button of his jeans. Tony stared out at the jeweled water, taking a deep breath and nearly tasting the salt.

An idea making the corner of his mouth twist, Tony walked backwards through the balcony entrance. He stared at Steve until he noticed. The moment the Captain's eyes caught on Tony's expression, they flashed with hunger. Tony pushed down the zipper of his jeans, running his thumbs across the inside hem to he reveal his hips and the dark trail of hair that started a few inches below his naval. Tony stepped back until his ass bumped into one of the arched openings in the wall.

Since they were on the second story, there were no stairs leading down to the white sand beach. The balcony was entirely enclosed by a wall, the stucco broken by long, waist-level archways every few feet. It ran the length of their hotel room, with two lounge chairs on end closest to them and a wide window seat at the other.

Tony scraped off the wall and backed across the balcony, Steve following him in a predatory stride. Just as he reached the window seat, he pushed his jeans and underwear over his ass and let them pool around his feet. He stepped out of them and slid naked onto the soft white cushions. The sunlight slanting across the wide seat warmed his back and spilled over his chest as he got settled on his elbows.

Still completely clothed, Steve crawled over him, pinning him against the sill of archway. His mouth collided with Tony's lips. They connected open, Tony's tongue meeting Steve's in the air before their mouths sealed. Tony's hand snuck under Steve's skin-tight shirt, the shape of his splayed fingers moving under the fabric as he read the lines of the soldier's abdomen like brail.

Outside, they could hear the waves and the call of birds. The Swing music filtered out onto the patio, merging with the other noises to create a quiet kaleidoscope of sound. Steve drew back and caught sight of the Mediterranean. Something like awe took over Steve's features, his lust momentarily forgotten. Tony forgot that the last time Steve was in Europe, the world was at war. As an American, places like Sicily were off limits to him. And Tony doubted he did much traveling as an art major.

Tony worked the catch of Steve's belt while the blond admired the view. It was, after all, why they'd come to Italy. The view, the food, and the company. He had Steve's khakis down around his knees before the Captain looked away from the sea.

"It's beautiful here," Steve whispered and licked a gleaming path from the reactor to Tony's collarbone.

Tony didn't bother stifling his groan when Steve settled between his legs. There was a reason he'd rented every room in the hotel. "We could buy a house out here, if you like it so much." Arching his hips, Tony's groans morphed into a hiss of air as their cocks rutted together.

Steve shuddered and sat up to strip his shirt off. The green, 'Go Army' rag (as far as Tony was concerned, it was a rag since it was nearly threadbare) caught on one of the loungers. It draped over the edge, the bottom hem brushing the floor. Steve's brow dipped as he leaned in to scrape his teeth over Tony's left nipple. "Are there any good schools out here?" he asked calmly, as if he wasn't leaving a hickey on Tony's pectoral between words.

"It would be a vacation home," Tony distractedly mentioned, his mind a few thousand miles away with the stacks of private school brochures on his desk.

He'd been to eleven different schools with Annika, but wasn't satisfied with any of them. Though they were all equally impressed with her brilliance, none could offer a program or teacher that wouldn't bore the five-year-old to tears.

In the meantime Tony was teaching her anything that caught her interest. Whatever the subject, he'd read a few books the night before so he could answer most of her questions the next day. Steve had suggested homeschooling, but they both agreed she needed socialization outside of Stark Tower. The girl was hopelessly terrified of anyone she didn't know and had taken to hiding behind Steve's legs when someone unfamiliar came to their home.

Steve stroked the inside of Tony's thigh and chided him, "She's fine, stop worrying."

It brought Tony back to the argument they'd had on the plane. It was fresh enough to make him indignant, "We left her with Thor! She's probably drinking mead while he tells her wildly inappropriate stories!"

"No, we left her with Jane. She'll keep an eye on things."

"Thor, babysitter. Do these words fit together to you? They shouldn't even be in the same coherent thought," Tony growled.

They didn't have a lot of options regarding a sitter for their honeymoon. Annika couldn't be left with anyone she didn't know, effectively eliminating any kind of professional service. Tony had argued for Bruce over Jane and Thor, but Steve had shot him down before the words had finished tumbling out of his mouth. Natasha was absolutely out of the question because Tony didn't want to come home to find their little girl learning hand-to-hand combat. And Clint seemed as adept at parenting as any master assassin, which meant he held her at arm's length with a look on his face that said 'what the hell do I do with it?'

Regrettably, they'd agreed on Jane even though Thor was part of the package. Annika was immensely fond of the Asgardian and had sealed the decision for them when she squealed in delight over Uncle Thor's arrival. The demi-god was good with her for short spans of time, but they'd never tested anything over two hours. Two weeks was a lifetime in comparison.

Steve fixed him with an annoyed stare. Between Tony's legs on his hands and knees, with his hard, red cock jutting forward in salute, the expression was as arousing as it was belittling. The soldier blinked slowly and raised an eyebrow before he said, "I'm going to have sex now. When you feel like mentally joining me, let me know."

"I'm just saying that- ughn! Jesus, Steve!"

Tony's argument abandoned him when Steve suddenly hoisted his lower half off the sheets and licked his entrance as if it was candy. With only his shoulders touching the cushions, Tony tried to find something to hold onto. Steve's hands were iron at his hips, holding him up, and Tony's legs hung on either side of his head. Grasping at unsubstantial objects like pillows and the end of the drapes, Tony ended up winding his fingers in Steve's perfectly parted hair while the soldier tongued him open. His whines were pathetic in his ears, but the sensations bolting down his spine didn't warrant anything else.

"Better," Steve pulled away to praise him. He rewarded Tony with two fingers that sought out his prostate. "Do I have your attention now?"

"Yes," Tony whimpered, a full-body tremble radiating from the touch of Steve's fingertips. When Steve withdrew his hand and replaced it with his hot mouth, Tony gasped, "Where the hell did you learn that?" Rimming couldn't have been around in Steve's day. Tony tried and failed to comprehend the idea of sexual deviancy coming from an age where 'applesauce' was an explicative.

Steve dismissed the theory that he learned it before the ice by saying, "Book," between licks.

As Steve's tongue pushed in deep, Tony was glad he had good hygiene habits. The slick muscle curled and flexed nimbly inside him. They'd had sex on the plane, so Tony could only imagine what he tasted. Though Tony had cleaned up, there would still be traces of come and lube mingling with the bitter bite of soap.

Steve slid his tongue out of the now wet hole and lowered Tony so his hips rested on Steve's bent thighs. Three of his fingers replaced his tongue and he smirked at the flabbergasted expression on Tony's face. "What?" he asked.

Through his haze of lust and pleasure, Tony was still trying to figure out how Steve had gotten his hands on a sex book. Or how he'd come to the decision that he needed one. Tony wasn't complaining about it, but the mental image of Steve in Barnes and Noble going through _Sex for Dummies_ was too strange to accept.

Even as Steve worked him open, Tony tilted his head and questioned, "Where did you get- oh, yeah, baby. Right there." He forgot his curiosity when Steve's index finger rubbed firmly on his sweet spot. Tony stretched out, the polished case of the reactor catching the sunlight and refracting it on the ceiling and walls. Tightening his legs around Steve's hips, Tony rolled onto Steve's hand eagerly. "Right there. Right there," he groaned through swollen lips.

Steve obliged and pressed on the sensitive patch of flesh, though his lifted his head to watch the bright circles of sunlight the arc threw off. Reflected through the curved piece of clear polycarbonate, the beams were tight and concentrated like light coming through a magnifying glass. Tony's every breath sent them dancing. "Tasha gifted it to me before our honeymoon. Said I had to find new ways to keep a man like you satisfied," Steve responded absently.

Tony followed his gaze to the ceiling, not sure why Steve was so interested in refraction when he had Tony naked and at his mercy. His voice gritty, Tony mentioned, "Trust me, I'd say something if you weren't keeping me satisfied."

When Steve's fingers slid out, Tony could feel his body close up around the void. Glancing at the ceiling once more, Steve wrapped his arms around Tony and lifted him into his lap. Tony nuzzled his jaw, smelling sweat and the cologne he'd bought for Steve a few months prior, while Steve guided the head of his cock to his stretched hole.

With one hand on the reactor, Steve gently maneuvered Tony so he was leaning at an angle away from Steve's body, nothing holding him up except the hand caressing his spine. Tony's stomach muscles tensed as his center of gravity was lost, but Steve massaged his tight abdominals.

"Shh, relax. I've got you."

Tony gripped Steve's biceps and let the man take his weight a little at a time. He knew Steve could hold him. Steve could pick up a car, so lifting Tony with one arm was nothing, but it required every spec of trust Tony had to let Steve support him at such an extreme angle several feet off the cushions.

Tony let out a shaky exhale and met the soldier's amused eyes. Before he could ask what was funny, Tony realized what he'd done. In the middle of Steve's chest, the reflected circle of sunlight glowed. It was an echo of Tony's arc, warm, yellow light where Tony's was cool and blue. Tony brushed the hot piece of skin with his knuckles, a gentle smile playing over his lips.

The light darted away as Steve inserted the wide head of his cock and Tony's back bowed. He was certain he was sliding across Steve's palm, his muscles seizing up against the feeling of falling. Clenching around the intrusion sent a tendril of pain curling through his spine. Tony gasped and tried to sit up, but Steve splayed both hands under his shoulder blades to steady him.

"It's okay. Relax, Tony," Steve whispered, rubbing circles on Tony's skin with his thumbs.

Tony glared at him, "You're banned from combining trust exercises with sex."

"If you'd relax, you'd enjoy it." Not quite hiding his disappointment, Steve asked, "Do you want me to put you down?"

Tony swore the hint of discontent was intentional. The man was practically pouting and Tony couldn't deny him something he wanted. Cursing under his breath, Tony grumbled, "No. Just don't drop me."

He knew Steve incredibly well, so he wasn't under the illusion that the soldier didn't realize he was toying with Tony the way a cat played with a ball of yarn. With an appropriately placed scowl, a bit of prodding, or a soft, 'Please?', he could get Tony to do almost anything. And Steve knew exactly which button to push, and what situation to push it in, to get the reaction he wanted.

Tony could never get away with claiming he wasn't wrapped around Steve's finger, anymore than Steve could say the same about Tony. They were tangled so tightly that the only way to separate them was to cut something important. Tony hoped he never had to experience that. The more their passion and knowledge grew in each other, the more horrendous a true breakup would be.

Steve got him rebalanced on one hand, the other going to his hip to help ease Tony onto his cock. Forcing himself to relax around Steve's erection wasn't difficult, he did that all the time. It was trying to let the tension flow out of the rest of his body that Tony had trouble with. As Steve slid into him, Tony let the pleasure of it coerce his limbs into a boneless state. His fingers uncurled on Steve's thick biceps and his legs loosened and spread around the soldier's hips.

As soon as Steve's pubic hair teased the soft skin beneath Tony's balls, the wayward hand rejoined its partner at Tony's shoulder blades. Tony shivered and gave Steve a squeeze to let him know he was ready. With the way he was positioned, Tony had minimal control over their coupling. Steve started an achingly slow pace and all Tony could do was whine. He wasn't aroused enough to resort to begging, but he was close.

The demanding edge to his voice make Steve's eyes skid up to his face, "Come on, you can do better than that. Faster."

Steve shook his head and rolled his lower body to slide out, then pushed inside at a crawl, "Not today. Always tug me out of control, but today we're going to enjoy it."

"We always enjoy it," Tony pointed out, his voice husky and raw. "Fuck me, big guy."

"No. And no cussing, I want this to be romantic."

Tony stopped contemplating the best position for his legs so he could drag himself down onto Steve, and actually looked at him. The blond was serious. Steve was always serious, but this was different. Even as he pumped into Tony, Steve placed a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth. Tony's resistance crumbled.

"Alright, fine. You want to stop and smell the roses while we-" Tony broke off with a cry as Steve slammed against his prostate. It was the only quick thrust before he resumed his previous pace. When Tony panted, "You're evil," Steve smirked, his lips drawing to the side.

"I'm the symbol of America. The people would disagree with you."

"They don't know you like I do."

"There's no one alive who knows me like you do," there was sadness in the statement.

Tony stroked Steve's arms with his thumbs, feeling the sweat gathering on his skin. Suddenly, the joke wasn't funny anymore. Unable to stay still anymore, Tony crossed his legs behind Steve's low back and sat up. He cut off Steve's complaint with his lips, cradling his head as he kissed the shadows of history out of him. Steve squeezed him around the waist and continued the relaxed thrusts while their tongues lingered.

The build was unhurried. The changed position afforded Tony more leverage, but he let Steve keep the pace. He found it amusing that when he wanted to go slow, Steve wanted to go fast, and vice-versa. If he wasn't in the perfect position for Steve to scrape over his sweet spot with each thrust, he would've said as much.

Tony loved getting fucked hard. He loved it when Steve went all alpha male on him and pinned his shoulders to the bed or wall while he pounded into him, but this kind of sex was sensual. It was more about the connection between them than it was about getting off.

Tony locked his arms behind Steve's head, their lips hovering close. Every second or third thrust, Tony crossed the gap and tasted Steve's full lower lip. As the record in the other room ran through _Ev'rything I Love_, _Sensation Rag_, and _Love Walked In_, Tony's kisses evolved from fleeting touches to sucking and biting that Steve returned with equal fervor. The soldier's calluses scraped down his spine, pressing against his ass cheeks as Steve grabbed a globe in each large hand and squeezed. Tony gasped into his mouth.

The firm push of Steve's hips increased and Tony's cock pulsed between their stomachs. He ached to get some friction, but he was letting Steve have this session. Control was something Tony coveted. When it wasn't his to wield, he was nervous or agitated. Steve was the only one allowed to take it from him. In battle, he trusted Steve to make the call because Steve saw the whole picture on the field. In bed, it was difficult for Tony to let go. Sex was always a subtle struggle for dominance, both goading and pushing to get what they wanted.

"Steve," Tony whispered against the lobe of his ear, tonguing the piece of skin. "I'm… I'm…"

Through clenched teeth, Steve grunted, "I know," and slapped into him faster, harder.

Burying his face in Steve's shoulder, Tony shivered with pleasure. He teetered on the fine line, the heat of release smoldering low in his belly, ready to catch fire. As Steve's gasps grew ragged and uneven, Tony knew it wouldn't be long.

Steve's cock dragged across his walls, bringing him closer with each twitch and push and roll of his lover's hips. With his eyes squinted shut, Tony didn't see Steve's hand approach his flushed erection, but the long, tight stroke from root to tip was his undoing. Tony shot with a low groan, his body tightening to milk Steve's dick. Ecstasy roared in his ears with his racing heartbeat. His back curved until Steve was the only thing holding him up. The force of his orgasm left him shuddering, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to regain his scattered senses.

Quiet as always, Steve exhaled when he came, his semen filling Tony in hot bursts. Tony held on while Steve rode out the release. The last few thrusts were uncoordinated. Stroking Steve's hair off his sweaty forehead, Tony kissed the outside corner of the soldier's eye and murmured, "Yeah, that's it. Give me all of it."

Steve's shoulders twitched as he groaned, "Tony." He dragged the name out, mixing arousal and annoyance in a way that made Tony laugh.

"What? I thought you liked it when I talk dirty."

"During, not after."

Tony followed the line of Steve's dog tags with his left hand, the gems on his wedding band catching the sun and throwing a dozen broken beams of red and blue and white. Tony leaned away just enough to look Steve in the eye, "Am I making you hard again?"

Steve's features stayed completely neutral, but his cock pulsed in Tony's ass. It filled quickly and Tony momentarily wondered what he'd gotten himself into. Undulating his hips, Tony grinned at the flare of Steve's nostrils and the way the blue irises darkened. The blond hoisted him, growling, "Bed."

Tony suspected he wasn't going to see anything but the ceiling on this trip, "Why do we have to go back to the bed? We have a view of the sea and I've essentially bought out this corner of the island."

His mind clearly too compromised by oxytocin and endorphins, Steve blinked at him.

"I'll use simple phrases. Let's stay out here," Tony said playfully and ground down on Steve. Still overly sensitized from their first coupling, the movement sent out prickles of pleasure that waltzed at the edge of pain. Tony made a sound that was almost a sob and repeated the motion. It was so good, but too much at the same time.

Gently, Steve lowered them both onto the window seat, his tags rattling on Tony's reactor as he leaned over him. He kissed across Tony's face and whispered, "Love you," as he shifted inside Tony.

"I'd-" Dragging in a lungful of air at the minute thrust, it took Tony a moment to find his lost thoughts, "I'd hope so, or you shouldn't have said 'I do'."

Steve drew out until just the ridged head remained and shoved back inside. Tony's bliss was agonizing. His hyper-stimulated body shook as Steve picked up the pace Tony had wanted all along. Cock stirring against his stomach, Tony was hard again after just a few thrusts. He yanked Steve down by his tags. Their teeth clicked together with the ferocity of the meeting. Lips skated across each other wetly.

Over the cry of Benny Goodman, the satellite phone in Tony's bag rang. Steve froze and peered into the hotel room. Tony tugged on the tags like a leash, "For God's sake, Steve. They'll leave a message."

The soldier didn't budge, "What if it's important? Fury has the number for that line."

"It's probably just Thor trying to find out where we keep the Pop-Tarts."

"Could be important," Steve stated and gave Tony a look that would make lesser men tuck their tails and scurry away.

Tony glared right back, "We're on vacation. Vacation, Steve. You know, where you relax, have sex and a Mai Tai? Let him call Banner, or one of his super-spies."

"Banner needs supervision."

The phone went silent, and then started ringing all over again. Whoever it was didn't want to leave a message. At the persistent chime, Steve disengaged and went to answer the call.

With an annoyed growl, Tony yelled after him, "Do you remember that conversation about cock blocking yourself? You're doing it again." His insides ached at the sudden loss of heat. He thunked his head down on the cushions and listened to Steve give a painfully formal greeting about how it was Tony's satellite phone the caller had reached. "They know it's my phone!"

The silence on the other side of the wall stretched taught. Sitting up, Tony came to the balcony doors, bracing one hand on the whitewashed frame. The tight lines in Steve's back said it wasn't Thor looking for Pop-Tarts.

"I understand," Steve said. "We'll be on the plane in an hour."

The Captain's fingers curled into his fist at his side and Tony went to the suitcases for clothes. By the time Steve hung up, Tony had outfits piled on the bed for both of them and was waiting his hands on his hips for an update.

"Well?"

Steve turned the phone over, running his thumb over the battery compartment before he rolled it face up.

"Steve?" Tony prompted.

"Raisa's escaped from prison." Steve looked at Tony, the steel determination Tony was very familiar with dominating his features. "She could be coming for Annika."

Tony was dressed and out the door in three minutes, his husband on his heels.

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TBC…

So much more to come. So many awesome plans. I'm excited.


	2. A Face in the Dark

A/N: So, it's been a hard couple of weeks. I won't go into it here, but thanks for being patient for this chapter. It's not as action-fight-scene oriented, but I promise we'll get to that soon. Like, in the next chapter.

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Steve could feel Tony's agitation. It radiated off the smaller man, manifesting in his tapping foot and the tick on the upper edge of his lip. They were still a few blocks from midtown and it was rush hour. A wall of brake lights separated them from the tower. Ahead of them, three different taxis were honking at the same delivery truck.

A bald driver stuck his head out of a cab window and yelled, "Hey, move your ass!"

Steve would never get used to how aggressive this city had become, and yet how strong and united they were at the same time. Yelling and sirens and car horns were normal, but when tragedy struck, the people of the city rose up to help those who needed it.

They passed one of the memorials for the Loki incident. Though it had been well over a year and construction was going on behind the plywood walls, there were photographs and fresh flowers. Spray painted on the barrier behind the smiling faces the city had lost, was a rendition of Steve's shield. The uneven, white star had bled onto the blue interior and red circles. Steve rotated in his seat to look at it after the light turned green.

Beside him, Tony growled, "I could get there faster on foot."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," Happy said sincerely, as if he was the one who caused the city to gridlock after five.

"Don't apologize, Hogan, it's not your fault," Steve sighed and glanced at Tony. "We'll be there soon."

Tony's phone blared a rock song, startling Steve until he recognized it as Pepper's ringtone. It was by a band called 'Aerosmith' that Steve was only vaguely familiar with. The song always made Steve scowl because he believed pairing Pepper's call with a song named 'Monkey on my Back' was very disrespectful. Scolding Tony for it hadn't helped, though the genius made vague promises to change it later.

Tony slid his thumb over the screen to answer it, "Pepper, darling, this really isn't a good time."

Through the buildings, Steve spotted Stark Tower. They were still in the high thirties, so it looked a lot closer than it really was. The Empire State building had the same effect. Standing on Fifth Avenue, it could be seen over a mile away.

"I don't care what Fox is speculating. You know I think speculation is just guessing dressed up in heels. Let them guess," Tony snapped into the phone, his back coming off the chair when he saw the tower. His CEO said something on the other end of the line and Tony responded, "Yeah, well, it's none of their business. They want to know what I'm working on for the Green Project, fine, but my marriage isn't something that should affect stocks."

Steve looked at Tony, realizing that this call meant something had hit the media. There had to be photos from the courthouse, or one of the people working there had sold the story. So far, they'd managed to fly under the radar, but Steve knew that wouldn't last forever.

Tony rubbed his temples with one hand, his palm stretching to cover his eyes as the thumb and middle finger massaged the area, "Since when does Iron Man have an approval rating? And why should I care? I did this way before anyone considered slapping an approval rating across my work."

Several cars clogged the intersection ahead of them. Horns shouted and hollered as the light changed and no one moved. As the congestion tightened, unpleasant gestures shook from open windows. Drivers cursed at each other in a colorful variety of languages, all of them still speaking some form of English.

"And you honestly think coming out would change that?" Tony paused to listen, cutting into Pepper's rant after a moment, "No… Look, you set it up. Just call me with the details."

He ended the call without any sort of conclusion, no 'goodbye' or 'I'll talk to you another time'. Steve rarely had a phone conversation with Tony, mostly since modern phones intimidated him more than jumping out of a plane, but he'd noticed early on that Tony had terrible phone courtesy. It wasn't bothering him as much as the fact that Tony had just agreed to come out.

"Tony, can we talk about-"

Steve was left arguing with an empty seat when Tony got out of the car. The eccentric billionaire crammed his phone into his pocket as he wove through the still cars and got on the sidewalk.

"Guess he decided to walk after all," Happy offered from the front of the town car.

Steve closed his eyes and said, "We'll meet you at the tower," before he got out after Tony. He had to jog to catch up with the brunet. Steve fell into step beside him, easily matching his brisk stride. The sidewalk was as crowded as the street, but people made a path for them. It could've been Steve's size keeping other pedestrians away, though Steve suspected it was Tony's dangerous expression. His husband's eyes were dark with fury and concern and his mouth was set in a thin line. When a man as powerful as Tony got angry, people ducked for cover whether or not they knew who he was.

As they crossed the street, Steve noticed a few people on the corner taking pictures of them with phones. No matter where they went, there was always someone who recognized Tony, but it felt like there were more eyes on them than before they left. It made Steve uncomfortable. This kind of attention was why he'd wanted to elope; he'd hoped to escape the prying stares.

When he was shoved into the spotlight as Captain America, Steve got used to being swarmed with fans. Even with all the attention, he had his identity as an unassuming military grunt to fall back on. People didn't know him as Steve. He could change out of his costume after an event and walk down the street with his hands in his pockets without getting mobbed. Having the unknown identity gave him comfort. Tony's life wasn't like that. He was Iron Man and Iron Man was Tony Stark. Everyone knew. There wasn't a moment of peace.

They made the next block, Tony weaving through the scaffolding set up around one of the buildings. Steve veered to the right to avoid the metal poles and said, "Tony, it wouldn't just be you coming out. Can we please talk about-"

"We are out. It's just the matter of making an announcement," Tony turned on him abruptly, both stopping in the walkway. Reminiscent of the road, people complained loudly as they went around the jam. Steve took Tony's arm at the elbow and maneuvered him out of the traffic flow. They found a lull near a newsstand.

Tony pointed at the front page of the New York Times. In two-inch letters, it read 'Billionaire Playboy Marries?' Directly below that, in the muted color of cheap printing ink, was a photo of them at the courthouse. It only happened a few days ago, so Steve knew exactly when the moment was captured. They'd just stepped outside after making their vows. Steve's arm was hooked around Tony's waist and Tony had a wide grin that was part of a laugh the image couldn't capture. Their mouths hovered close, Tony's hand up by Steve's face, part way into the caress and kiss that followed. The ring was obvious in the photo, which was probably why they'd chosen that moment over the kiss.

"Unless you think we can refute that?"

Steve picked up the newspaper to unfold it. Skimming the article, Steve knew they couldn't fight the evidence. "No," he stated simply and flicked a nickel to the newsstand clerk.

Before they could walk off, the clerk shouted, "You still owe me a dollar ninety-five!"

For a breath, Steve didn't know what he was talking about, and then he fumbled for the rest of the money. Sometimes, the twenty-first century caught him off guard. After he'd paid, he tucked the newspaper under his arm and trotted to fall into step with Tony again.

Tony flicked a hand through the air, his eyes trained on the tower, "I can't believe you're worked up over that, you knew it was coming. Raisa is loose. She could be here now, and I'm not so sure the tower's security system can stop her. Even with my upgrades…"

The longer Tony talked, the more his nerves frayed like rope over a sharp edge. They both knew Raisa would come for Annika, but it was as if Tony thought she might harm her daughter, that he'd forgotten Annika belonged to Raisa.

Steve had gotten close to the dark-haired girl. They enjoyed going on outings and spending afternoons in the park while Tony was at meetings. She'd recently started calling him 'Papa', which made him melt every time she said it.

For as close as he was to Annika, Tony was closer. They bonded on a completely different level. To Tony, Annika was his daughter. He'd adopted her and everything was official, but the pair acted as though they'd always been together. She had gone from 'Mr. Robot' to 'Daddy' in just a few months. They would both be devastated if she was taken. It would be like losing flesh and blood for Tony.

They cut across Fifth Avenue, which was essentially a parking lot, and Steve got around in front of Tony once they were on the curb. The genius tried to duck him, but Steve grabbed his shoulders. At the hard scowl the brunet gave him, Steve slid his hands to cup Tony's jaw. When Tony met his eyes, Steve said, "She's with Thor. No place is safer, aside from being with you and me."

"Funny how that works out," Tony mumbled, visibly calming after a moment.

Their pace didn't change much, but Tony seemed a bit less stressed. They covered the last few blocks in silence, coming out on Thirtieth Street with matching shocked expressions. A mob of people milled outside the tower, a mob armed with cameras.

"Shit," Tony mumbled.

The press was clearly waiting for them, leaving Steve wondering how they'd discovered they were back in the city. The town car was nowhere in sight, which eliminated Steve's plan to use a distraction to get by them. It could be thirty minutes before Happy arrived. Steve looked down at Tony, his brow knitting. He could handle Nazis and aliens and threats to the human race, but paparazzi were more Tony's territory.

"Tony..." he started, the rest of his question obvious: what do we do?

Tony squared his shoulders and crossed the street, Steve trailing behind with trepidation. The one thing Steve remembered about crowds of reporters was that they were suffocating. He had to smile until it felt like his face would crack, making him feel more like a dancing monkey than a soldier. It was the one thing about his career as Captain America that he detested.

They cleared a third of the courtyard before the first woman with a microphone broke away from the group. She came at them at a brisk walk, speeding up when others realized they were there. Thrusting the microphone into Tony's face, she asked, "Mr. Stark, why is it that you've kept your relationship a secret? Do you have a response to the Gay and Lesbian community for their statement this morning?"

Steve wasn't aware there was a Gay and Lesbian community, let alone that they had some sort of stake in their marriage.

With practiced ease, Tony dismissed her questions with a curt, "I don't have a comment, honey."

They closed in around them like the Red Sea after Moses led his people through. The flashes were blinding and constant. Steve stayed close to Tony, ignoring the muddled swell of voices aimed at them. He couldn't begin to separate individual questions out of the din, so he didn't have any hope of answering them. Ducking his head against the glare, Steve moved into the lead and gently parted the crowd with one muscular arm.

An array of Tony's bodyguards swarmed out of the tower to meet them. As efficiently as a well-oiled machine, they made a path through the press for Steve and Tony. The wall of reporters crowded the glass entry when they strode inside, held back by men in black suits. When the doors were closed and relocked, the ruckus dulled to a hum. Steve thanked the security personnel before he got on the elevator.

"Jarvis, give me a security report," Tony ordered.

In his restored voice, Jarvis replied, "There's nothing to report, sir. There have been no major security events beyond the crowd at the door. I take it you didn't enjoy the Mediterranean?"

Steve didn't get why the computer needed sarcasm. In Jane's voice, it was a lot less scathing than it was once Tony brought the actor over from England to rerecord his vocal databank. It was nice to have Jarvis back to his old self, but Steve almost missed the sweetness Jane gave the AI.

"Can it, Jarvis. There haven't been any strange fluctuations? No access code used at an entrance that it isn't normally used at?" Tony pulled out his phone to go through records for the tower.

Sounding vaguely offended, Jarvis stated, "I am very thorough, sir. There are no major security events to report. At least, nothing you would consider a threat."

"What's that mean?"

Steve was about to tell him to trust his machine, but the elevator door slid open to the penthouse floors. Nothing looked amiss. Tony immediately commented that the maids hadn't been there that day, since Annika's things were strewn across the normally spotless room. There was an incomplete DNA model on the thick rug in the sitting room, a few heavy textbooks on the table beside it. On the bar, Mjölnir sat between a book on quantum physics and a laptop Steve didn't recognize. He assumed it was Jane's, since Thor was about as tech savvy as Steve.

As he walked through the entry, Tony stooped to pick up one of Annika's sweaters and hang it in the closet. Steve set down the newspaper on the table with their car keys, following the sound of a television down to the media room. The Asgardian god was sprawled across the couch wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a scowl. He had a beer balanced on his knee, and an empty Pop-Tart box snuggled against his hip. The TV show blaring on the widescreen was some Discovery Channel special on sharks. A hammerhead glided across the field of blue, its mouth festooned with bits of dead fish, while a narrator calmly talked about feeding frenzies.

Jane was nowhere in sight and, though Annika's graph paper and crayons were on the floor by the couch, she was missing too. Steve assumed they were together in some other part of the tower.

When Thor saw Steve, he surged to his feet, sending the empty box somersaulting to the floor, "My friends! You have returned so soon! Was your trip not to your satisfaction?"

Steve accepted Thor's bear hug, not minding the tight squeeze until his vertebrae popped. With a cringe, Steve pushed him to arm's length and said, "No, our trip was great, but we got the call about Raisa. There haven't been any problems here?"

"No, none at all. Your adopted offspring is a delight."

From the doorway, Tony asked, "Where's Jane? Is Annika with her?"

Thor's face crumbled, his brow shadowing his eyes, "Jane and I have quarreled. She has gone out to breathe the air. Which is something I do not understand, there is air inside the tower or we would not survive here. She could breathe air here."

"She just needs a little time to herself," Steve explained. One thing Steve was familiar with was how many different ways women had to say, 'I'd rather be alone.' Most of the excuses he'd heard were directly related to woman not wanting to go on a date with him pre-serum, but it was the same line of commentary. "What did you argue about?"

"Safeguarding your offspring has brought many emotions forth for her, but I tried to explain I would need time to-"

"Speaking of offspring, where is she?" Tony butted in.

Thor rotated his body to point at the unoccupied graph paper without looking over, "She is solving some of the equations you left behind for-"

Tony was gone before Thor could finish, shouting, "Annika? Where are you, baby?"

"I turned my eyes away from her for only a moment," Thor exclaimed when he finally saw the empty space where Annika had been. There was no telling how long he'd been wrapped up in the Discovery Channel.

Steve walked out after Tony, his chest tightening despite the calm he exuded. He saw no reason to panic when she was undoubtedly in her room looking for something new to work on. Annika got bored very easily, Steve had learned. If she wasn't in her room, she was in reference library going through the books. He wouldn't let himself believe that someone had walked in through the tower's security unnoticed, somehow avoided rousing the attention of a demi-god, and made off with a very intelligent, wary little girl.

"I cannot express to you the depth of my shame for allowing her to wander away," Thor apologized while they searched the tower.

Steve waved him off, "Trust me, she's really good at waiting for the perfect moment to disappear. She's done it to me and Tony both. We lost her at the aquarium once. Tony was convinced someone had snatched her, but she was at the stingray petting pool the whole time."

As they scoured the empty kitchen and the empty living room and the empty playroom, Steve's discontent grew. It grew until his stomach rolled and he searched places that were unconventional hiding spots, like under the couches and inside cabinets. Sometimes, on the rare occasion where she didn't run to one of her fathers when she was scared, she would hide in strange places. Steve thought maybe the shark show had been too intense and had driven her into a small, comforting space. It was doubtful, since the shark tank was one of her favorite exhibits at the aquarium.

Steve nearly ran into Tony on the way out of the dining room, catching his biceps to steady them both, "I've checked most of the lower level, I can't find her."

"She's not in her bedroom or any of the Avengers rooms. Natasha's is still locked, thank god."

Tony pushed his messy hair off his forehead, slicking it back with one hand while his mind cranked. Steve let him think. The tower was a hundred and fifty stories, and that left a lot of places for a five-year-old to hide. Assuming she was still in the tower. Steve knew they were both terrified that she was already gone…

"Sir, if you are searching for Annika, she is in your workshop."

All three of them peered up at the ceiling, Thor saying, "This information would have been more useful if given in a prompt manner. Why were you delayed, computer man?"

"More important question," Tony snarled, "Why did you let her in the workshop, Jarvis?"

"I'm afraid my protocols were overridden. You will need to devise new ones to keep her away from the tools, sir."

Steve bit his lip against his chuckle at Tony's exasperated groan. The girl had a remarkable mind. If he didn't know better, he'd think that Tony had actually sired her. She was just as hardheaded as he was, and just as determined to find a way to get what she wanted. It was the third time she'd hacked Jarvis to get in past security codes. Tony had been talking about designing some sort of complex security matrix (that Steve couldn't even begin to comprehend since he'd zoned out ten seconds into Tony's explanation), but hadn't gotten around to upgrading the system yet.

Tony led the way to the workshop, lifting a crude mechanical device from the keypad and gaping at it. Whatever it was, it was plugged into the security pad by several brightly colored wires. There was a short bench beside the computer counsel, the one they kept in Annika's bathroom so she could reach the sink. A red handled screwdriver peeked out from beneath the stepstool.

"How the hell did she figure this out?" Tony muttered to himself as he turned the green and gold plate over in his hand.

Since Steve had no idea what they were looking at, he went inside. Instead of AC/DC, a group called Wee Sing Silly Songs played on the workshop speakers. It wasn't as loud as Tony normally kept it, but 'Found a Peanut' was certainly a change from 'Back in Black'. Annika sang along, her voice muffled by something. Bright, uneven flashes of light drew Steve's attention to a table by the back wall.

"Tony," Steve shouted, ripped cleanly between being amused and mortified.

Their little girl was perched on a high stool, her bare feet swinging to the music while she welded two pieces of metal together. To protect her face, she had gotten the helmet from one of the MARK suits. It was large and ungainly on her tiny body and her waist-length braided pigtails hung out the bottom. The gloves she was wearing were just as oversized, coming nearly to her elbows while the empty fingertips bent at odd angles on the torch handle.

Dummy held the fire extinguisher over her project, hovering around the station like a sheepdog around a wayward lamb. If it was possible for a robot arm to look worried, Dummy had somehow found a way. It never stopped moving, it's gears 'tsk'ing with disapproval as it brought the extinguisher in close to the small box Annika was crafting.

Too lost in her own little world, Annika kept singing and welding, "Found a peanut, found a peanut, found a PEAnuuuut just now! Just now I found a peanut, found a peanut-"

Tony arched a brow, his expression torn in the same way Steve felt. He glanced at Thor, giving him a glare that made the demi-god rub the back of his head, and then pulled out his phone to take a photo of the strange scene. Sticking the cell into his pocket, Tony approached the table and turned off the gas to the torch.

As it sputtered and died, Annika whined and checked the dials at the base, "Aw, what happened? Jarvis?"

Tony lifted the helmet off, exposing a surprised little girl that peered up at them with wide, guilty eyes. Tucking the Iron Man head under his arm, Tony sternly asked, "Why do you think it's okay to do this by yourself?"

"But-" Annika sputtered. "But I'm not by myself. Dummy and Jarvis are here."

"You know I have to be in the room."

"But I was doing everything you taught me, I was careful."

Steve's concern suddenly shifted. He turned his attention from Annika to Tony, his voice incredulous, "_You _taught her how to use that thing?!"

"With _supervision_," Tony responded calmly, but with sharpness.

"I believe it is time for me to go search for Jane," Thor bowed out of the room, the tension making him uncomfortable.

They tried not to fight in front of Annika. Instead of yelling, they tended to be calm, but underhanded. Even that was easy for Annika to pick up on. Steve let it go, it was something they could argue about later. He didn't think such a young girl needed to use dangerous equipment, even with Tony looking over her shoulder. The smallest slip could cause irreparable damage to her delicate skin.

"I'm sorry, Daddy and Papa. I just wanted to finish it before you got home," Annika told them softly.

They exchanged a long stare as Tony took off Annika's gloves. Their fight didn't matter, because they had to tell their girl that her mother had vanished into the wind. With a sigh, Tony lifted her from the stool and balanced her on his hip, nodding at her apology. He picked up the two-sided box.

"What are you making?" Tony asked as he thumbed through the electronic parts spread out on the opposite side of the table.

Annika brightened, excitedly explaining each piece and how it would all go together. Tony seemed to follow every word, but Steve got lost.

"What's it going to do?" Steve asked, expecting the 'really?' eyes he got from both of them.

Annika took the cooled casing from Tony, Dummy following the move with the extinguisher, and showed Steve a lens built into the side, "It's going to project pictures as a hologram, like a picture frame, but in high resolution. And it'll change every five minutes to a new one."

"Wow, that's swell, Annika," Steve was genuinely impressed.

There wasn't a lot he knew about technology, but he was aware that Tony's holograms were leaps ahead of anything else on the market. For her to be able to put together something similar without his help was beyond incredible to Steve. It might not have functioned right off the bat, but it was certainly ambitious.

"It was going to be a wedding present, but Daddy never goes to bed, so I couldn't work on it," she grumbled and turned the casing back and forth in her tiny fingers.

Tony put his free hand out to block the opening of the extinguisher, "Seriously, Dummy, you're making me nervous. Point it at the floor."

The robot arm angled the extinguisher like it was hanging its head in shame. An unhappy whirring sound accompanied the movement. Tony was using Butterfingers's rebuild as a learning tool for Annika, so the other arm was still lying disassembled on a counter by Tony's desk. Steve thought that maybe once it was done, he'd paint something on the side to commemorate the machine's efforts to save his life.

Once he wasn't under the threat of being sprayed with fire-retardant foam, Tony said, "Daddy has a lot to get done in a day, so he can't always go to sleep when everyone else does. Sleep is for the uninspired."

"Don't tell her that," Steve groaned.

They went out into the main part of the house, Tony talking over dinner and about cleaning the living room while Steve waited for him to bring up Raisa. Steve believed that bad news was like ripping off a band-aid, it had to be done quickly. Though, it was a mentality developed since he'd joined the new century. There were no band-aids in World War Two.

"Tony, you have to tell her."

Annika swiveled her head between them, her Russian accent more prevalent with her nervousness, "What? Tell me what?" The 'wh' of her 'what's melded into the hard sound of a 'v' as worry filled her gold-green eyes. "Is it why you came home early?"

Tony glowered at Steve, the look vanishing the moment Annika turned to him. His reassuring smile wasn't convincing to his husband, but Annika returned it slowly, "We can talk about it after dinner, it's okay."

"Tony," Steve stated firmly. "It can't wait."

Tony fidgeted for a moment, possibly considering how else to delay the discussion, but eventually knelt in front of Annika. There was no good way to say it, Steve could see Tony having trouble coming up with the words. His husband tenderly brushed the girl's bangs away from her eyes and adjusted one of her braids. Before he could speak, Jane and Thor came in from the elevator.

"My work is here, I can't just pick up and move to another world!"

"It is not possible for me to make Midgard my permanent home. I must ascend to my father's throne when the time is-"

Their argument puttered out when they felt the weight hanging over the room. Jane pulled at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, her eyes flicking around. The couple was oddly normal without Thor's armor and a plethora of computer equipment surrounding Jane. If they walked down the street together, no one would ever know them. Steve knew it would never be like that with him and Tony.

Without thinking about it, Steve crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He wanted them to go, but he was never one to be rude.

Shifting his mass from one foot to the other, Thor cleared his throat, "Jane and I have decided to travel back to Newer Mexico, since you have arrived to care for your daughter. We do not wish to be an inconvenience."

"You know you're always welcome, but we could use a little space right now," Steve said, trying not to be too curt. "But we might need you, so don't go all the way to Asgard."

"Of course," was the answer as Thor hugged first Steve, then Tony.

Never really one for excessive physical contact, Tony pat the demi-god's shoulder awkwardly, "Take care, Shakespeare."

Jane crouched to say goodbye to Annika, "We'll see you soon, okay? Be good. I'm going to leave the wormhole books for you." They embraced and Annika politely thanked her for the books after Steve reminded her. Jane looked at her for a long moment, something wistful, then sad, flickering over her features. "I'm so sorry about your mom, sweetie. I'm sure she'll-"

"What about my mom?"

A hand flew to Jane's mouth to cover the comment after the damage was already done. She whispered, "I didn't realize you hadn't said anything, I'm so sorry," as she looked apologetically at Steve.

Steve's stomach clenched in a fist when Annika panicked.

"What happened to my mom? Did she get hurt?" There were tears in the girl's voice, but they hadn't quite made it to her eyes. When Tony leaned down to her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sniffled. "Is she okay?"

"Hush, baby, your mom is fine. She's not hurt," Tony cooed against her hair.

"I am so sorry," Jane reiterated and got to her feet. Thor put his hand in the small of her back to steady her, worry etched into the lines of his face.

When Tony glared at her, Steve came over to smooth things. He couldn't blame Jane when the news of Raisa's escape was days old. There was no way for her to know that they hadn't told Annika yet. "It's alright… but, why don't you get your things together?"

It was dismissive, but they needed to go. Steve had the powerful urge to gather his family up in his arms and give them as much comfort as he could. Tony could use it and Steve knew Annika had to have it. Jane apologized all the way to the door, Thor guiding her to the rooms upstairs so they could pack their clothing.

"I don't understand, I thought mama said she'd stay in prison so she could see me. Doesn't she want to see me anymore?" Annika asked, pleading for answers neither of them had. The line of child and brilliant mind blurred as she started drawing conclusions. Steve didn't want her doing that, because there were a lot of unpleasant results of thinking it through logically. "If she left prison, she'd have to start over and pretend to be somebody else. She won't come here, she would just get caught… She doesn't want me."

"You don't have enough evidence to draw that kind of conclusion," Tony told her.

At the same time, Steve said, "Of course she wants you. Your mother loves you."

With only a subtle touch to Tony's arm, they agreed to move to the couch in the sitting room. Tony tucked one leg underneath him and settled with Annika in his lap while he listened to the girl's reasoning. Steve took the spot on the left side so he could see Annika's face. He slipped his arm around Tony's shoulders and gave him a light squeeze.

"But she had to stay in prison because she did bad things. Now everyone will be chasing her. Why would she leave if everyone was going to chase her?" Annika hiccupped, her hands gripping Tony's shirt into bunches. She hovered on the verge of waterworks, never quite passing over into actual tears.

Steve couldn't explain it to her. Raisa was not a career criminal. She didn't kill because it was instinct, she did it to save her daughter. When she had things set up in the best way she could after all terror she'd wrought, Steve had no idea why she would break out. The only possibility was that Raisa wanted to get her daughter and go underground with her. She couldn't have been particularly pleased that her enemies were raising Annika.

It was her method of escape that had Steve curious. All Fury had mentioned was a man called Magneto, who was the leader of a group SHIELD referred to as The Brotherhood. Steve needed more information. He had to know what they were up against since he doubted this man set Raisa free because it was the right thing to do. Fury would brief them, but Steve was impatient. If The Brotherhood was a threat to national security, they would be even more so with a scientist like Raisa in their fold.

Tony rubbed his hand up and down Annika's back, saying, "You're mother doesn't always make a lot of sense."

"Tony!"

"But," the billionaire gave Steve a sidelong look for interrupting, "The one thing we know is that she would move worlds to get to you. She loves you."

Annika considered his words, her face scrunching up as she mulled over it, "If… if she comes to get me, will I still see you?"

"No, baby," Steve admitted softly. Tony tensed under his arm, his dark eyes narrowing with the prospect. Continuing, Steve offered, "I'm sure your mother will take you somewhere sa-"

"We would come get you."

Steve wasn't sure that was the right thing to say, but he knew it was true. A young child didn't need to get dragged around by a fugitive, always on the run from SHIELD. It wasn't a good way for a young girl to grow up, especially a girl like Annika. Her life had been so strange and uncertain early on. In a stable home, she'd really started to flourish. As much as he wanted to argue, Steve knew Tony was right. Annika needed to stay with them. Her mother had proven she wasn't mentally sound by killing hundreds of innocent people to get her way. Steve couldn't imagine what that kind of influence that would have on a young girl.

Surprising Steve, Annika curled up with her head on Tony's shoulder and said, "I want to stay with you." As she spoke, she wrapped her chubby hand around one of Steve's fingers, holding his hand close as though it was a cherished stuffed animal.

Warmth spread through Steve's chest and his throat felt tight when he told her, "We want you to stay too."

Outside the big, bay windows, the sun dipped into the New York skyline. The sky burned in reds and golds, fading to gentler blues and purples once the disk disappeared behind the buildings. Steve watched the color melt into black before he told Jarvis to tint the windows. His arm went numb at some point, but since Annika was slipping in and out of sleep, Steve didn't complain.

Eventually, Tony whispered, "She hasn't had any dinner. We should make her something simple."

Steve cooked Annika a Nutella and banana pan-fried sandwich, much to Tony's horror. The genius tutted around complaining about calories and Annika's strict diet, but went silent when he saw the smile she wore while she ate it. Her eyes drifted shut as she chewed. The struggle to stay awake ended two bites into the second half of the sandwich. Annika folded the unoccupied arm on the table and put her head on it. The food fell out of her slack grasp, dropping onto the floor.

With a fond sigh, Tony reached for the mess, but Steve immediately said, "No, I'll get it. Put her to bed."

Tony lifted the girl's sleeping form easily, soothing her with whispered nonsense when she stirred. As Tony's footsteps faded, Steve picked up the forgotten sandwich and scooped the crumbs off the table. He piled everything beside the sink. While he waited for the water to heat, he considered their new enemy. Steve didn't like going into battle blind, but he would if the situation called for it.

By the time Tony came downstairs, Steve was putting the last of the clean dishes in the respective cabinets, "Well, Shakespeare and Jane are gone, must've snuck out at some point."

Steve only nodded at the news. He grabbed the towel to dry the frying pan and hung it on the rack over the island. Pots and pans rattled softly as the rack swayed with the new weight. Steve reached up to steady it while Tony took a seat at one of the three barstools. Their eyes met and lingered across the counter.

"We need a meeting with Fury. Need to know what he knows," Steve said and draped the towel across the lip of the sink.

"There are other ways."

Tony didn't have to elaborate, Steve understood what he was insinuating. Hacking. As much as Steve despised it, he was desperate for information and he couldn't find it the old-fashioned way without knowing where The Brotherhood was hiding. Tony's method was the only one they had until Fury agreed to see them. Bracing his hands on the counter, Steve absently stared at the marble surface and debated.

Before he could make a decision, Tony suggested, "I could at least get the footage from her escape. It might give us some idea about this Magneto guy. Which, I want to know who the hell calls themselves Magneto."

"Probably a codename."

"Still… That's like being Mr. Pink."

Steve glanced up, the question obvious on his face. Assuming it was from some kind of movie or television show, Steve wasn't bothered when Tony waved his hand and told him to forget it. When Tony pulled up the holographic screen built into the island, Steve came around to stand behind him. SHIELD's logo flared to life in turquoise and a pass code box popped up over the eagle's chest. Tony flicked two fingers over the box to dismiss it, opening a clear window so he could type lines of code. It looked like another language to Steve, but he let Tony work in silence.

"Daddy, there's a monster in my closet," Annika's groggy voice filtered from the upper floors.

Tony glanced over his shoulder, the cursor blinking in the dead space above their counter, "Would you-"

"I got it," Steve told him and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. "Get into those files."

Steve's foot touched the bottom stair and Jarvis said, "Security breach. Intruder alert." Adrenaline hitting his bloodstream, Steve pounded up the carpeted stairs. He heard Tony knock the barstool over in the kitchen and then his husband was running up the staircase behind him.

As they reached the upper landing, Annika screeched, "Daddy!"

Steve stretched out to his full speed in the open hallway, barreling through the door without slowing, hoisting one arm to protect his face from splinters. Shards of wood crunched underfoot when Steve frantically preformed a visual sweep. The closet was hanging open, the interior so dark it was like looking into an abyss.

Tony darted into the room after him, "Where is she? Annika?"

The room was empty. Only the soft, pink glow from a jellyfish nightlight illuminated the lumps of comforter and sheet, shoved back in haste. Steve went to the closest and threw the door out of the way. It banged loudly against the wall. As the overhead fluorescent blinked on, Steve shoved aside prim dresses and the expensive boutique clothes Tony had been buying for the girl. Aside from carefully arranged party shoes and racks of outfits, there was nothing in the closet.

"Steve, come here," Tony barked and Steve immediately stepped out. Pointing at the bed, Tony said, "Here."

Steve lifted the heavy, white bed frame so it was balanced on two legs. The sheets slithered off the far side. Curled and trembling between an unopened chemistry kit and gigantic stuffed panda was their daughter. Tony grabbed her up, gently squeezing her shaking frame against his chest.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay. You're safe."

Still on high alert, Steve dropped the bed and paced around the room, his eyes never stopping, "Jarvis, show me the feed ten seconds before Annika screamed."

An image of Annika's room projected on the wall to his left and Steve tightened his hands into fists while he watched. In the corner of the feed, Annika stirred in bed, but Steve's attention was fixed solely on the partially open closet. Tony stepped up beside him, holding the terrified girl so her face was turned away from the screen.

A pair of reflective eyes appeared in the slit of shadow, hints of a humanoid form separating from the darkness to glide into the room. Tony took in a sharp breath through his nose and he looked over at the closet with apprehension. Not for the first time since he'd stepped up to take the serum, Steve wondered what the hell he was facing. As Annika in the video sat up and screamed, the thing reached for her.

"Enough," Steve growled.

Jarvis froze the video when Annika was a blur of motion rolling off the bed. Steve would've bet he'd seen it all when swarms of enemies dropped out of the sky like rain, but he thought that he should stop taking that bet.

Sounding angry and agitated, Tony said, "We're calling Fury. Now."

"Agreed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

I said I wouldn't stay up super late to finish chapters anymore, but what's the first thing I did? Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for the next installment.


	3. Streaming Live!

Tony hated calling SHIELD in the middle of the night. He had to get patched through three or four people before he could ever speak to Fury, and they always warned him that it was extremely late as if Tony wasn't aware normal humans were asleep. He'd already been through two operators and was listening to hold music while he hacked into SHIELD's databanks on his bedroom window.

Steve watched him from the middle of the bed, Annika asleep on his chest. Upright and intensely alert, Steve cradled their daughter with one arm and held his shield in front of them as though he was waiting for an attack. It would've been a bit more intimidating, if Steve wasn't in his patriotic underwear and some tube socks. Tony had told him twice to put down the shield, but knew it wasn't going to happen.

Wondering why SHIELD had jazz music for phone holding, Tony typed the final lines of a ghost retrieval package into his coding. It ran, flashing feedback as it hunted through SHIELD's security network. They'd made some decent upgrades to their firewalls since the last time Tony had broken in to the database, and he'd encountered more than his share of problems before. He analyzed the stream from the protocol, seeing it stick and reroute as it bounced against the firewall.

"Mr. Stark," a voice came on over the speaker, sounding annoyed. It was another operator, not Fury. "The director is asleep, this-"

"You know, I do own a clock. I know how late it is. If you don't patch me through to him, I'll have your ass for target practice, am I clear?" Tony snapped, keeping his tone sharp but quiet so he didn't wake Annika.

There was a lengthy pause broken by muffled voices and the operator said, "Hold on, please."

The jazz music came back.

"I swear to..." Tony edited himself by closing his mouth, his anger boiling just under the surface. "Why doesn't he have a cell phone? He has to have a cell phone, why wouldn't he? But the bigger question is why don't we have the damn number to it?!"

"I know. It's not right," Steve said softly.

Tony could tell he was humoring him, but appreciated the attempt to calm him. Burning off steam by bitching was the best way for him to get rid of it, even if he hated the concept of bitching, "I mean, even you have a phone. This guy wants to consider himself our boss, but we can never get a hold of him."

Steve said some other 'you're absolutely right, honey' kind of acquiescence, but Tony wasn't listening anymore. The feedback from his program gave him an idea. Terminating the iteration, Tony made a few adjustments to the coding and sent it off again. The more aggressive program drilled through the security barriers, setting off every alarm and warning it touched. Rows of files jumped onto the floor to ceiling windows that made up a wall of the master suite. They filled from end to end with glowing folders bearing SHIELD's emblem.

Within a second of Tony's success, Fury growled on the speakerphone, "And just what do you think you're doing, Mr. Stark?"

"Thought you were asleep," Tony sniped, earning an eye roll from Steve.

"I'm awake now and you have my undivided attention. Is there a particular reason why you've infiltrated files that are none of your business?"

"It's my business now; these people have been in my home. We need to know what we're up against."

Conducting his screens like an orchestra, Tony flipped through numerous layers of files with broad sweeps of his arms until he found the one he wanted. The file was innocuous, a green silhouette of a folder with 'The Brotherhood' under it in an unassuming font. Tony tapped the file and it expanded on the window. A few long-lens photos mingled with sterile blocks of text, people that were tinted red and blue and green or were wearing costumes that bordered on absurd. Tony skimmed through the information. Repeated over and over through the text were the words 'Class Five Mutant'. It wasn't a familiar term.

Videos cued up and began to play, most of them short, shaky handheld footage. Tony couldn't quite wrap his head around what he was seeing. They were human, or at least they resembled humans, but they were doing things Tony had never witnessed before. There was no footage of the leader, just some of his underlings. A man with red skin and a long, whip-like tail disappeared in a burst of smoke, while a few files over, a woman with dark hair expelled some sort of energy out of her hands. Since he'd started working with the Avengers, Tony had encountered more than a few enemies that went beyond his analytical understanding of the world.

"What am I looking at here, Fury?" Tony asked, his eyes flicking to another video of a silver-haired youth they had to film in high-speed to get a clear shot.

Steve unfolded from the bed, gently laying Annika on the mound of decorative pillows before he joined Tony. As Steve gaped at the incredible footage, Fury answered, "Some, namely Erik Lensherr, believe that they're the next step in the evolutionary chain."

Tony lifted his chin to see the photograph at the top of the file, a gray-haired man with deep grooves trailing the sides of his mouth. Magneto, the file read under 'codename'. There was a certain dignity about him. Tony could read it in the high angle of his head and the menacing glint of his eyes. Erik Lensherr was no one to trifle with.

"They aren't engineered?" Steve questioned as he touched the file link for the mutant called Azazel. A dozen photos opened on the window to the left and Steve followed to look through them. The red-skinned man peered directly at the photographer in most of the shots, his grin wide and yellow. "Tony, it says this one can transport himself anywhere. He might be the one that…" Steve trailed off as he read the information.

Tony gestured at Lensherr's file to open it. Suddenly, the windows went blank, and then lightened until the view of New York's glittering sprawl came through. Tony's brow creased and he slowly lowered his hands to his sides.

Fury said, "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I don't need the two of you going rogue on this. The Brotherhood is a menace SHIELD has been following closely for nearly a decade and I know for a fact you two can't deal with them alone. You especially, Tony."

"What's that mean? If you have information we need-"

"Let me assure you, you'll get it, but not before the team is gathered. I know how you are, Stark. I don't need you running off on your own."

Steve glanced over at him, "He's right."

Tony growled, "Traitor," under his breath.

"We'll be in the area by 0930 and we'll send you a transport. Do you think you can postpone your research until then?" thick with annoyance, Fury's voice told Tony how exasperated his was. Fury sighed and was silent for a moment, possibly thinking, probably cursing how difficult his Avengers were, "They do need to be dealt with. It concerns me that Raisa is with them, but you will need your teammates. Just, stay put until we have them. Agreed?"

"Yes, sir," Steve said immediately.

Tony growled, his body a solid block of tension. He stalked away from the windows and over to the bed, sitting on the edge. While he adjusted a blanket over Annika's shoulders, his thoughts tumbled wildly over what The Brotherhood would want with a mind like Golovin. The possibilities were disturbing.

When Tony didn't answer, Fury pressed, "Stark?"

Tony nodded and Steve spoke for him, "He agrees."

"Good. Now, I have work to do, if you would excuse me."

Fury's end of the line went silent and Tony looked at his sleeping daughter. The only time she acted her age was when she slept. With her thumb in her mouth and her intelligent eyes closed against the night, she could've been a normal child. Her dark, wavy hair spilled over her cheek like ink on an otherwise untouched page. Tony brushed it away with the back of his hand. This wouldn't be about Annika, but Tony knew Raisa's price would be her daughter's return. They would try to take her and Tony had to be prepared for it. He couldn't stand not knowing how The Brotherhood would attack.

The bed dipped behind him and Steve's left arm snaked around his waist. His palm came to rest on Tony's reactor over the shirt, gently caressing the raised metal through the cloth. "I know you won't get any sleep, but I'm obligated to suggest it," Steve whispered against his ear.

"No, I think I'm going to go work on something in the shop… You'll stay with-"

"Of course."

As Tony started to get up, Steve's hold tightened to keep him where he was. Confused, Tony turned his head and Steve caught the corner of his mouth with a kiss. It was chaste. Tony twisted to feel more of the plush lips. Giving Tony a light squeeze, Steve broke away.

"Go clear your head. I'll be here," Steve said against his mouth.

Tony saw Steve settled and turned off the light as he left.

For several hours, Tony fought to get back into SHIELD's network. He didn't have any plans on running off in the middle of the night after a group of mutants, but he wanted to know more about them. Whether they'd blocked his IP, or reorganized the firewalls, Tony couldn't get through. Thirty minutes into rerouting his computer through an off-site server to hide his IP, Tony decided to focus on his equipment. He hadn't checked his suits since the last time he took one out on a mission.

Rearming his tech consumed him. Not once did he glance at the clock while he installed smart missiles and recharged his cutting lasers in the MARK VIII. According to the army of blue wireframes standing to attention at his desk, the other suits were up to date. He rarely used the previous models, just the briefcase unit, but he'd rather have them in working order.

It had taken weeks to find all the parts beneath the wreckage of Raisa's warehouse and months on top of that to get them all repaired. They were restored to their wall bays, with new security implementations that ran on a separate network from Jarvis. As much as he trusted the computer to run everything in the tower flawlessly, he couldn't risk a repeat of Raisa's success in shutting down the AI.

As he was oiling a knee joint in the early hours of the morning, his stereo dropped to a murmur and he caught the smell of coffee, "Thanks, babe, I was just thinking about-"

"I'd prefer you didn't call me 'babe' anymore, Tony," Pepper's voice said crisply behind him.

Tony rotated in his chair to find his ex in her trademark black dress with a to-go cup and a stack of documents. While he considered her, he wiped his hands off on a rag. Temporarily postponing his curiosity as to why Pepper was at the tower, Tony took the offered coffee and swallowed some down. It was an organic blend that came from a shop near Union Square, so Tony knew the redhead had bad news. Rolling his tongue around the rich flavor, Tony set the cardboard cup down at his workstation and said, "Spill. What do you need me to do so badly that it requires a trip to Everyman?"

"I take it you didn't get my message," it was a statement, no shock registering on Pepper's petite features. Her lips pursed and one carefully groomed brow dipped, but it was enough for Tony to read. She might as well have screamed, 'You're a technology mogul, but you never check your goddamn messages!'

Since their breakup, Pepper had gone right back to being his sharp, unmovable secretary while simultaneously running his company. She'd scared Tony when she first left because she'd put in her resignation the same day, but after consideration, she'd asked to return to the position. More CEO than secretary, she didn't see him unless it somehow related to the welfare of the company. Tony had expected some kind of change between them, for moments like this to be more awkward, or for her to avoid confrontation, but it was as if they'd never shared a life. It made part of Tony sad.

"You left a message?" is what he ended up asking.

"Several. Your press conference is in an hour."

Tony nearly knocked the cup off the table when he reached for it. Glancing up with wide eyes, Tony questioned, "What press conference? I have to be at SHIELD by ten, I'm not doing a press conference."

"The one explaining to the nation why you've been keeping your marriage a secret so we don't lose favor with the Liberal party. Yes, you will be going. You told me to set it up, I set it up, now you're going to go upstairs and get dressed," Pepper was no nonsense and firm about it, handing him a deck of cue cards that he shuffled through and tossed in the trash. She followed the cards with her eyes, scowling slightly when he threw them out. "You could've at least considered looking over them."

"Pepper," Tony turned to his machine and started piecing together the gold-titanium plates, "I really don't have time for this. Push it to next week."

"Anthony Edward Stark! I've told you what this scandal is doing to our company and you ARE going to fix it or so help me."

Tony sat up a little straighter at the use of his full name, setting down his screwdriver as he looked over at her. Pepper's stance was tight, her arms cross over her chest and her shoulders square. There wasn't going to be any room for argument, not without getting into a socioeconomic debate that Tony would rather avoid. With a grumble, Tony picked up his coffee and shuffled upstairs.

"Fine, but this had better be done by nine."

Pepper followed him through the penthouse, absently straightening a statue on one of the end tables as they passed through the living room, "It's live, but we can push on them to start a little early. Does Steve have something he can wear?"

Tony stopped within sight of the kitchen. He hadn't considered that Steve would be part of the conference. The other man could handle it, he'd wooed bigger crowds when he was selling bonds, but Tony knew he didn't like being out in the open as Steve Rogers. The soldier had mentioned it more than once, that Captain America could be in the limelight, but he preferred to keep his other identity personal. It was a little late to avoid that.

Watching Steve putter around the kitchen working on breakfast, Tony decided not to make his husband deal with all that scrutiny. If Tony asked, Steve would go, even if he didn't want to be part of it and that was enough. He caught Steve's eye and the soldier smiled, "Good morning, Tony, Pepper. Do you want some breakfast?"

"Just a protein shake, thanks babe," Tony replied.

When Steve raised his brows at Pepper, she waved her hand, "I'm fine, thank you. I ate before I came over."

Once Steve was occupied, Tony lowered his voice to speak with Pepper, "Look, I don't think he's going to want to be in the spotlight like that. They'll just have to be satisfied with me."

"Tony, he really needs to be there."

"No, he really doesn't and you know it. The one they want to hear from is me, since it's my company. Stop forcing this. I'll play up the position Stark Industries already has on offering gay partnerships health benefits and tell everyone I'm a happily married man. They'll throw out a few questions, I'll smile for pictures, and Steve can come to an event later so people don't think I'm keeping him locked up in a basement."

Though she didn't look happy about it, Pepper didn't pursue the suggestion, "Is he at least going to be there, even if he doesn't sit for questions? It would be good if people could see him with you."

Shaking his head, Tony continued toward the kitchen, "No, I don't want Annika exposed to the press yet. He'll stay home with her."

"But-"

"Why are you making this such an issue?" Tony snapped.

He was done with the topic and he didn't understand why Pepper was jabbing at him about it. The press was predictable. If Steve was there, they'd get stirred into a frenzy, prying into their personal lives more than either of them would feel comfortable with. If Tony went alone, it would be about his stance on equal rights and a handful of questions about his husband. Steve would eventually end up swimming with the sharks, but Tony could protect him for a little while. Not that he needed protection. Tony actually felt bad for the sharks.

Pepper stayed quiet as they entered the kitchen. Steve was bent over the blender, cussing in his own way as he struggled with it, and Annika was unsuccessfully trying to hide a mischievous grin behind her hand.

"Tony, are you sure you fixed this darn thing? I can't get it to come on," Steve groused as he fiddled with the buttons.

Tony swore Annika's smile got wider. As he scrutinized her, the expression morphed into an innocent look Tony didn't believe for a moment. He reached to help Steve with the blender and it roared to life when his fingers made contact with the base. The giggle that came from the far side of the island confirmed Tony's suspicions.

"You're being sabotaged. I don't think the blender is the problem," Tony told him and left a kiss on the soldier's high cheekbone. After draining the rest of his coffee, Tony pointed an accusing finger at Annika, "Be nice, you know your papa is technologically challenged."

"But… how could she have done anything when she's across the room?" Steve asked as he turned off the blender and poured the viscous shake into a glass.

Tony exchanged coffee for protein shake, barely acknowledging Pepper as she tapped at her watch, "Remote control, I'd bet."

Annika ducked her head, pushing her cereal around with her spoon. There was always something going on with one of the appliances, but only when Steve was the one operating them. Tony was still on the fence as to whether it was user error on Steve's part, or if Annika really had found a way to remote operate them. When the toaster started spitting toast like it was launching rockets, Tony took it apart to solve the problem, but didn't find any unusual devices inside. In fact, it looked as if it was in perfect condition.

At least the blender wasn't making a mess. He didn't have time to figure it out today. With Pepper threatening him with her eyes, Tony chugged the chocolate-flavored shake and put the cup in the sink.

Steve leaned against the counter, his long, muscular body flexing and becoming a major distraction for Tony, "Are you headed out?"

"Yeah, I have to do a press conference about our marriage, win back the liberal vote, yada, yada."

"Tony, it's more serious than that," Pepper griped.

Tony rolled his eyes and continued to soak up his husband's perfect form, "I'm not a politician, Pepper. I shouldn't have to explain everything I do." Stepping close enough to feel Steve's body heat, Tony gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth and said, "I'll be back in plenty of time to go with you to SHIELD."

"Ew," Annika complained at the kiss.

Steve's eyes grew serious and he caught Tony's waist before he could move away, "Should I be going to this thing? I mean, if it's about our marriage-"

"Only if you want to. They'll be perfectly content to ask me a million questions if you don't show."

Considering Tony's offer of anonymity, Steve let his gaze wander to Annika then back to Tony, "If it's all the same..."

"It's fine. I'll be back in a flash," Tony pat his chest and went over to ruffle Annika's hair, "Be good."

With Pepper breathing down his neck, Tony was dressed in a grey suit, perfectly groomed, and out the door in twenty minutes. Happy waited by the car, the MARK V strapped to his wrist like always. Tony and Pepper piled into the back seat and she finally noticed that he'd managed to get out of the house in sneakers instead of dress shoes. Her groan made Tony laugh.

As they drove through the city, Tony spotted the same clinic going in on several different blocks. None of them were open yet since they were still under construction, but beneath the logo, it proudly proclaimed being 'New York's Answer to Medicine'. After Tony had seen three different locations, he finally asked, "What do you know about these medical facilities? They're building so many of them."

Pepper barely glanced up from her PDA, "They're free clinics sponsored by an independent cooperation. Some sort of statement, I'm sure."

They passed one more before they got to the venue Pepper had chosen for the interview. It was a lot like the pressroom he had back at Stark Industries in California, with large windows and skylights. Tony could see the podium from the street, though there were almost two hundred people clustered inside. The spidery shapes of camera tripods marched along the back wall, their operators milling aimlessly while they waited.

Happy took them around the side of the hotel where the conference room was housed, and parked in an underground garage. A collection of hotel staff waited to guide them upstairs. Assuming the lead, Tony considered what he was going to say as he walked. It was a habit to troubleshoot potential questions before anyone ever asked. When they stepped out on the main floor, Tony had considered the most obvious questions and even a few of the uncomfortable ones.

Just to the left of the podium, Pepper adjusted his tie while someone announced him. Behind the rows of reporters, the cameras stood sentinel, the red lights glowing like eyes. No matter how many of these things Tony did, he always had a knot of apprehension low in his stomach. He hid it well since public speaking was second nature to him, but when it had something to do with his family, it wasn't the same. Announcing a business decision was easy. Exposing a hidden part of his life was more difficult.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Ignore it, you'll be on a second," Pepper told him and smoothed the tie with her palm.

Tony fished it out anyway. Pepper's face was on the screen with her name above the photo. With a grin, Tony showed her, "You're pocket calling me."

"Oh shoot," she slung her tiny, kidney-shaped purse off her arm and dug through it. "Just go, I'll get it."

As he flicked the button to end the call, the man doing the introductions stepped away from the podium and Tony walked towards it. The phone was halfway into his pocket when it buzzed again, this time a text message. Tony was going to ignore it, but something made him look down. The message was from Pepper.

'I'm in Florida. Who is that?'

Tony stared at the message, not sure what to make of it. Somewhere to his right, the announcer asked if he was all right, his voice absurdly loud in the hushed silence of the room. While he was looking at the short line of text, another message came in.

'That's not me. Get out. Now.'

The crowd of reporters seemed to lean in at his distress, each and every one dying to know what kind of text could put Tony into such a state of confusion. Rotating his upper body, Tony glanced back at Pepper. She mouthed 'what?' at him and motioned at the podium with both hands. Uncertainty flickered through him. He took another step and the phone vibrated in his palm.

'5 is not the only digit in your social security. She's a fake.'

When Tony met the woman's eyes again, the familiar blue-grey irises melted to yellow and Pepper's persona faded. A dark, emotionless mask slipped over the imposter, a look Tony had never seen the real Pepper wear.

She strode towards the podium, her heels clacking on the marble floor. As she approached, her skin grew thousands of blue frills that layered over her clothes and flesh. They moved in a rhythmic wave that started at her breastbone and traveled down her extremities. Behind the wave was bare flesh, deep blue and ridged like snakeskin across her arms and legs.

Tony recognized the mutant from her file even before she'd finished her metamorphosis. Raven Darkholme, codename Mystique. Pandemonium erupted from the crowd. They pressed forward instead of away, shouting questions as if one of the most dangerous mutants alive hadn't walked into the room wearing his secretary's skin. The cameras kept rolling, the live feed going to every news station across the US. A few bolted for the door, but Tony only counted three.

As Mystique made the three steps that led up to the podium, Tony put distance between them. He didn't have the chance to get into her file, so he wasn't going to let her get too close without knowing what she was capable of. The thought that she was standing in his kitchen, chatting with his family, put a burning coal in his stomach.

"Do you have any idea how insufferable you are?" Mystique bit out over the roar of the reporters. "For five months, I've fetched your dry cleaning and brought you coffee when I should've been throttling you in your sleep."

Tony went numb. Five months ago was when he'd made amends with Pepper. It was when they'd first reestablished a friendship after the break up. The real Pepper was in Florida, for what that was worth, probably still trying to forget the name Tony Stark and all that went along with it. She cared enough to warn him. That was something.

"Mr. Stark!"

Tony separated Happy's voice from the din, following it to the wall beside the podium. His driver held up the briefcase suit, already unlatched from his wrist, the front open and waiting for the access code. Sensing Mystique's movement, Tony dropped under her flying roundhouse kick. Inhumanly fast, the mutant fell from the kick to a leg sweep that knocked his feet out from under him. Tony landed on his shoulders, using the momentum to roll away from Mystique and off the podium.

Hitting the ground at a run, Tony snatched the briefcase out of Happy's hands and crouched to set it down. "See if you can't get some of these idiots to leave," Tony ordered, motioning at the crowd of reporters snapping photos. "And then get out of here."

Happy ran into the media, shouting and pushing people towards the door. It wasn't terribly effective. Most of them completely ignored him, too hungry for the next big story to fear for their lives.

Mystique didn't seem to be in a hurry. She smiled as he typed the code into the MARK and grabbed the handles. Hesitating, Tony wondered if he was missing something. No enemy was ever pleased when he got armed. As she leapt nimbly off the platform and approached, Tony pulled the armor to his chest.

It hummed as it booted up, clicking down around his shoulders and back. Tony held his arms out to the side to let the metal close over them and lifted his head for the helm to bang shut. The HUD flared to life, a crosshair appearing over Mystique as Jarvis bid him good morning. When he felt the last of the suit fall into place, calm slid over Tony's alarm. The suit could handle anything a shape changer could throw at him.

Mystique stopped a few feet from him, her vivid yellow eyes roaming over the MARK. She smirked and said, "Impressive. Does it come with a can opener?"

Tony rolled his eyes at her flippancy, raising his palm so she could see the repulsor glowing, "I think you're in too far over your head to be making jokes. What does your boss want with Raisa?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

The room-length skylights above them exploded as the metal support beams suddenly ripped down the middle. The screech of metal overwhelmed even the terrified screams of the reporters. Tony gaped while metal piping as big around as his arm curled up like leaves that had caught fire.

Shaking his disbelief, he turned his microphone on its highest setting and shouted at the stubborn news people, "Get out of here! Go!" His voice boomed across the conference area, sending them in a panicked herd to the door.

A plume of red smoke burst in front of the exit, a man with ink-black hair and bright crimson skin standing in the midst of the dissipating cloud. His appearance brought new screams from the reporters and sent them back the other way. Some broke away from the group and bolted for the windows, but a young man with a curdling sneer and a woman with white-blue energy crackling at her fingertips barred the way.

Tony knew them all from the files. Azazel, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver. The only one that was missing was Magneto. The suit automatically switched into battle mode, his HUD going from white to red as the targets increased.

"Everybody get down!" Tony shouted, pleased that the press actually listened for once.

When his sights were clear, Tony shot a pair of repulsor blasts at the two by the window, spinning to launch another at the demonic creature by the door. Nothing hit. Scarlet Witch lifted her hands and the pulses rebounded off a protective shield of blue energy. Azazel phased out just before the strike and the blast hit the wall behind him. Bits of drywall showered the video equipment.

He couldn't use anything bigger with all the civilians in the room, especially since it was likely to meet with the same result. In order to get a solid hit, he was going to need to catch them off guard.

"I think you might be in over your head," Mystique said beside him.

Tony jerked back to avoid her strike, lifting his hand. The high-pitched whine of the repulsor heating only made her smug. As the bolt left his palm, something grabbed his wrist and forced it over his head. The blast disappeared through a broken windowpane, nearly impossible to see once it got into the open air.

Tony didn't understand what had him. There were no proximity warnings, no body anywhere close to him aside from Mystique. He jerked at the hold, his suit cranking and whining from the effort. It lifted him off the ground as if the MARK weighed nothing, his feet left kicking the empty air.

"I don't think so," Tony growled, putting all of his thrusters on full. He wasn't going anywhere.

Below him, a few hundred frightened faces waited for him to get the fight under control. Some were already losing their hope, their eyes dropping to the floor or skittering over the Brotherhood as if they were looking for a way out. All turned to the broken skylight as a shadow crossed over the sun. Tony lifted his head, the helm adjusting to the UV with a filter so he could see what was coming.

Without any kind of equipment, Magneto floated down into the conference room, a black cape billowing from his shoulders. The man's head and face was mostly covered by a smooth helmet, only his eyes and mouth visible through the narrow opening. Those eyes stuck on Tony, a smirk curving the corner of his mouth as he landed at the podium.

At the twitch of his hand, the invisible hold on the armor tightened and dragged Tony closer to the stage. Cursing, Tony tried everything he could think of to break free. He sent the control surfaces flaring and used the auxiliary boosters at his back and calves. The air around him shimmered with heat.

"Be still," Magneto told him, expanding his fingers. At the slight movement of his hand, the armor straightened forcefully and Tony cried out as his tense body straightened with it. One by one, something crunched inside the boosters and they flickered and died. When the only sound was Tony panting inside the helmet, Magneto nodded, "That's better. I suppose it's true you never leave home without that magnificent piece of machinery. Pity you'll have to die in it."

Bewildered, Tony asked, "What are you?"

As Mystique and Azazel got the cameras in the back repositioned, Magneto put both hands on the podium, speaking into the microphones that would take his voice to every state in the nation, "We are the next step in human development. We are the evolutionary leap that will wipe homo sapiens off the map." The mutant glanced over at Tony with his next sentence, the words sending a chill down Tony's spine, "And there are more of us than you know."

Magneto lifted his hands into the air, speaking into the cameras that were still rolling, transmitting feed live to dozens of news stations, "Bothers! Sisters! It is time to shake off the shackles of the homo sapien! We are the answer! We are the cure! Even as we speak, men in Washington are trying to pass a decree stating that all mutants must be recorded and catalogued like cattle, so that we might be hunted and destroyed. We will not submit to this."

One of the mutant's hands closed into a fist and Tony screamed as pain tore through him. The armor flexed far beyond his body's capacity, hyper extending his elbows and knees and pulling at his limbs until Tony felt as though he was being drawn and quartered. The metal groaned at the treatment, not designed to bend any way his body couldn't handle. Damage warnings flashed all over the HUD.

"Sir, the suit will not sustain this kind of pressure," Jarvis told him.

When black swarmed at the edge of Tony's vision, it suddenly stopped. With his helmet facing the ceiling, Tony couldn't see Magneto anymore, but his speech came through loud and clear, "These Avengers are their protectors. They are nothing in the light of a true mutant. Do not be afraid to stand with the Brotherhood. They have us outnumbered, but we are worth a thousand times what they are. To be free, you must fight. Trust me when I say, you will not stand alone."

Tony realized as Erik Lensherr spoke that he wasn't talking about mutants standing on equal ground with humans. He was talking about genocide. The genocide of the human race.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Holy crap, Batman! I know. Cliffhanger. I'm the devil. But I swear there will be more soon, so hold on tight and think of Tony and Steve having hot sex when this is all over. Because you know they will.


	4. Puppet Master

A/N – Sorry guys, I know this took almost a week and you're used to a couple of days. I've been busy. Those of you making guesses about Annika, you win. We'll start there!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Jarvis said, "Captain Rogers, I believe you should turn on the television," Annika looked up from her equations. Her Papa rarely watched television, so it seemed strange that an advanced AI would recommend it. Only when they were settled in front of the TV together would Steve submit to it. Annika understood, she didn't really like the mindless quality of network programming either, unless it was a science show or something on Animal Planet.

Steve put down his book next to Annika's pages of mathematics and crayon drawings and conceded, "Alright, turn it on."

Annika got up on the couch with him, wondering if it was going to be Daddy's press conference. She felt the current rush through the flat screen on the wall and resisted the urge to reroute it to confuse Papa. It was very, very easy to confuse Steve with electronics. Annika knew it was bad, but he was always so funny when he was trying to figure out why something wouldn't work for him. She felt a note of distress in Jarvis, so she left the TV alone.

Images of a podium and a room full of people came on the screen. An announcer talked over the scene. They caught him halfway through a statement, "… cannot be identified at this time. All we know is that a rogue mutant is at the Stark conference…"

Steve surged to his feet, startling Annika. She peered up at his tense face with mounting fear. On the television, the footage wobbled and zoomed out, turning to the left. When it turned, they could see Tony getting into his Iron Man suit, a naked woman with blue skin approaching him. Annika didn't understand what she was seeing, not sure if the woman wanted to hurt her daddy. The blue woman seemed calm, but Tony put his hand up and Annika recognized the glow of the hand cannon.

The camera shook as glass showered the room, the announcer crying out, "There's something going on! Was that the ceiling?"

"Jarvis, turn it off," Steve ordered before he turned to her. The images of Iron Man vanished. Papa crouched down so they were eye-to-eye, making her worry worse. When adults came to her level, it meant something bad was about to happen, or had already happened. "Stay here a minute. I have to go change."

She nodded and he kissed her forehead. The moment he was gone, Annika turned her eyes to the television. It blinked to life. The camera was on its side, filming people's feet as they ran by. Annika flicked through channels until she found one with a decent shot.

Her hands fisted the hem of her dress while she watched Tony attack three new enemies. One of them was the monster she saw the night before. When Tony's repulsors didn't work, he turned his aim back to the blue woman, but something invisible lifted him into the air. A quiet whimper escaped Annika's throat as her adoptive father struggled to free himself. She got off the couch, standing directly beneath the television.

Another man floated down from the ceiling and Annika realized he was the one holding the armor. The man in the black cape didn't have abilities like hers, but they were similar. She could almost detect the trails of energy between him and the metal of the MARK suit. As he started talking, he drew Tony closer to the stage.

Behind her, she heard the heavy tread of Steve's boots, "Annika, what are you- oh my God."

The man with control over metal continued, "Even as we speak, men in Washington are trying to pass a decree stating that all mutants must be recorded and catalogued like cattle, so that we might be hunted and destroyed. We will not submit to this." When his hand flexed, the armor spread out and bent back until Tony screamed.

"Daddy!" Annika shrieked, her power flexing unconsciously.

The television flared bright white and the screen fractured. Above their heads, the lights blew out in a widening circle with Annika at the center. Jarvis's speakers crackled and wailed and finally died. When the room was dark, Annika quieted. Steve stood stock-still at the entrance of the room, watching her. As if he came to a decision, he crossed the room to her. She couldn't feel the tears streaming down her face until Steve picked her up and wiped them away. His gloves absorbed the wetness.

They moved quickly through the tower, Steve talking as he carried her, "Don't worry. I'm going to bring him home. I promise I'll bring him home."

Annika rubbed her face in the rough fabric of his uniform. The blue and white under her cheek scared her almost as much as seeing Tony in the hands of a mutant. It meant Papa was going to launch into the fight too. He had a leather jacket covering the uniform top, his mask hanging over the collar. As Steve set down his shield to enter his code into the access pad for the garage, Annika gripped the edge of his coat.

"You can't take that, Papa," she said sharply. Steve furrowed his brow at her and reached for the shield, drawing a panicked, "No!" from her.

"Alright. Why don't you hold onto it for me just in case I need it?"

Slowly, Annika nodded. Steve set her on her feet and flipped the shield around so she could take the worn handles. As he let it go, the weight dragged her arms down so the shield covered her from shins to mid-chest. It was awkward to carry and banged against her legs when she walked, but she wasn't going to let it go for anything.

They went to the motorcycle, which she was not allowed to ride, and her Papa put a helmet on her that covered her eyes. She pushed it back, nearly losing her grip on the shield. With a muted cry, Annika grabbed both handles again, slipping one arm through the slot. It was too short to reach the opposite handle, so she took that one in her other hand.

"We're not going to tell Daddy we took the bike, okay?" Steve ordered more than asked.

Annika nodded as Steve put her on the front of the motorcycle, "Okay."

Getting on behind her, Steve said, "When we get there, we're going to find Happy and you're going to stay with him, no matter what. Do you understand?'

"Yes, sir."

Steve pulled his mask over his hair and put his motorcycle helmet on over that. Annika started to say that it was pointless to wear a helmet if he wasn't going to strap it on, but her Papa started the engine before she could speak. The machine pulsed underneath her, its blood made up of electricity and fire. She felt Jarvis there. His presence was a comfort.

'_I'm sorry about your speakers,'_ she told the AI.

The neuro-net processor blurred through a thought matrix and he responded, _'It's quite all right, miss.'_

As they pulled out of the garage, Annika held tight to her Papa's shield and her Papa held tight to her. They motorcycle let them glide through traffic the way a car couldn't, Steve being very careful around the other vehicles, but going very fast. Annika hoped it was fast enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve weaved through the police barrier when they reached the hotel, ignoring the shouts of the cops. There were squad cars lined up at both ends of the street to block the flow of traffic. An ambulance and a fire engine idled behind the far line and Steve could see a handful of people getting attention from paramedics. Steve revved his engine and darted to the other end of the block before the approaching officers could stop him.

As he passed the hotel, he scanned the situation through the windows. The mutants had the press lined up at the window like a living barrier, eliminating the chance for gunfire from the street. Above them, Steve could see Tony hovering but not flying. Magneto was on the platform beside him. Through the chaos, the ringleader's eyes fixed on Steve and he swore he saw the man smile.

There were snipers getting into position on the roofs around them and Steve seriously wondered if leaving Annika home alone would've been a better idea. He'd learned how Raisa worked the last time they'd dealt with her and knew that this was probably the big distraction to break in and snatch Annika from under their noses. He prayed that he wasn't making the wrong choice.

Parking the bike at the bumper of the ambulance, Steve looked around for Tony's driver. Happy found him first. The man ran over, even as a paramedic tried to get him to sit down. Once Steve was stopped, the police caught up to him.

"Hey, buddy, you can't be here," a sergeant yelled at him.

Steve lifted Annika off the bike and handed her to Happy, "You take her and you go. Don't let anyone get near her."

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you!"

The shield made it difficult for Happy to carry her, so he set her down and took one of her hands. Steve's little girl reached for him, tears gathering at the brim of her eyes. It broke his heart to leave her like this. "Where should I take her?" Happy asked.

"Anywhere but home. They might be headed there to look for her." Getting off the bike, Steve crouched and chucked his daughter under the chin, "Remember, as long as you have my shield, you're safe."

Her bottom lip quivered and she pointed out, "I'm not strong enough to throw it."

Steve kissed her check before he climbed to his feet. The driver tried to lead her away, but Annika wouldn't cooperate with him. Her protesting whines turned into wails as she dug her heels into the cement. Happy grabbed her around the waist and scooped her up, wincing when the shield banged against his shoulder. Steve had to look away from her tear-streaked face.

When Steve finally turned to deal with the cops, the sergeant had gone quiet. His eyes went to the shield in Annika's grasp, then to Steve's red boots, then finally to the edge of mask coming down out of the helmet. Steve figured he'd gotten his answers.

Not waiting for the sergeant to say anything else, Steve stripped off the jacket and tossed the helmet to the side. He felt strange without his shield, but he'd worked without it before. When he strode towards the hotel, the sergeant came to his senses and jogged after him.

"Wait a minute, I know you!"

Steve didn't falter or slow, "And I have a job to do, if you'll excuse me."

"You're a vigilante like Stark. We can't let you get involved here. This is a hostage situation and-"

"And one of those hostages is my teammate. Don't get in my way," the warning settled in the air, leaden with all the weight Steve was willing to put behind it.

He didn't need any more enemies at the moment, especially not the New York Police Department. Thankfully, a few of the officers backed him up by explaining that the Captain had saved a lot of people during the alien invasion. Steve let them defend him. Pausing briefly, Steve took in the line of hostages and the guards at the interior doors. He was going to need another way in.

When he looked up, he saw it. Since the conference room broke off of the main hotel like a reaching hand, the roof was only two stories high and the skylight was ripped open wide enough to land a helicopter. Steve ducked behind the rows of cop cars, circling around the side of the building.

In the narrow alley that led to a series of parking garages, Steve found a decorative corner stone that had big enough gaps for his fingers. He scaled it quickly, his mind gravitating to Tony. Though he had his comm turned on, there wasn't any word from his husband. The MARK would've detected Steve when he came within range and Steve didn't want to think about what the silence could mean.

Near the top, there wasn't enough space to fit his toes between the stones, so Steve managed the last few yards hand over hand. He drew himself onto the roof, careful to stay out of sight. Edging to the broken skylight in an army crawl, Steve took in the positioning of the mutants with a glance. He pulled back to think. All of the hostages were pushed against the windows, leaving a lot of space in the middle for fighting. The first thing he needed to do was to find a way for the civilians to get out.

Steve discovered that Tony's speakers still worked when an agonized shout blasted his earpiece. Every muscle tightened at the sound, his partner's pain throwing kindling on his fear for the other man and turning it into roaring rage.

Below him, Magneto sauntered out onto the open floor with Tony in tow. "We know you're here," he called, a flick of his fingers sending the armor contorting so another scream filled Steve's ears. "Why don't we get this over with? Come out and we'll release the press, since we both know that's not who you're here for anyway."

Steve gripped his hands tightly enough to make the material of his gloves creak. His eyes clenched shut as he tried to come up with any plan that didn't involve jumping into this fray like a wild animal.

"Don't you dare," gasped in his ear.

Steve's eyes snapped open. Heart pounding at Tony's voice, he crawled to the edge to peer out. The armor was tilted so the MARK mask pointed at the ceiling, Tony could definitely see him. Steve shook his head, whispering, "I have to-"

Tony's words were strained, but strong, broken by panting, "I thought you were some kind of tactician. Are you telling me you can't smell the cheese in this trap? Get out of here. SHIELD should be here soon and you know Fury's already picked up the others."

Steve stayed silent. He couldn't walk away. It wasn't in him.

"If you come down here, I'm divorcing you."

"Have to take that chance," Steve replied and leapt through the skylight. Executing a flip, Steve landed in a crouch in front of Magneto. He stood slowly, his eyes blazing.

"Damn it, Steve. Trap. Admiral Akbar ringing any bells?"

Magneto was not what Steve was expecting. He was taller than the photographs suggested and looked like he had plenty of fight in him for a man his age. There didn't seem to be any devices or machines in his hands, so Steve wasn't sure how he was controlling Tony's suit. From what little he'd read of the files, the members of The Brotherhood could do incredible things without any sort of outside influence. They were born that way.

"And the faithful dog will walk into the maw of hell should his master command it," Magneto said with a glint in his eye. "Bold, but foolish."

Steve lifted his chin, "You said you would let these people go."

"So I did," his reply was quiet, almost thoughtful.

Steve stayed tense, balanced on the balls of his feet in preparation for a quick dodge or block. His sensed hummed. Acutely aware of every movement around him, Steve waited for any one of the mutants to leap into action. He'd always preferred fighting over talking and he knew he was on uneven ground here. They outnumbered him and Tony wasn't going to be any good in the battle unless Steve could take out the ringleader. Even then, there was no telling how much damage the suit had taken. Iron Man could be down for the count.

Finally, Magneto turned his head and said, "Release them."

The hostages were just as suspicious of the action as Steve was. When the door opened and Azazel stepped aside, a few shuffled forward, but the rest stayed where they were. Murmurs echoed in the large space, the reporters peering at each other, waiting for someone to be the first. Finally, a skinny man in a blazer bolted for the exit. When he made it, the other followed in a panicked herd. The mutants watched them go.

As the room emptied, Steve's eyes flicked to Magneto. Getting him to let Tony go would be more difficult. There would undoubtedly be some sort of price or demand. Steve wasn't sure what it would be, but he had no intention on meeting any demands. He planned on leaving this building with Tony if he had to fight them all. Part of him reveled in the challenge it posed. It would push him to new limits.

Steve rolled his shoulders, tired of waiting for the attack, "Now, let Iron Man go and things won't get ugly."

"We've only just begun, Captain. Your husband's incredible armor has far too many uses for me to simply release him."

Steve twitched at the word 'husband'. These people knew more about them than Steve originally thought. The idea crawled under his skin like a multi-legged insect, leaving him unsettled.

Magneto motioned at Tony with two fingers and the suit lowered to the ground beside him. It stood to attention, Tony grumbling and cussing inside. Without looking at his group, Magneto ordered, "Azazel, remain here. The rest of you, go fetch the girl."

Tony roared, hands flexing as he fought Magneto's hold. The suit's mechanics strained and clicked and whined, but barely moved. "Steve!" he shouted, his desperation thick.

Heart slamming into his ribcage, Steve bolted for the trio of mutants as they turned to carry out the order. He searched for a weapon out of his peripherals, but the space between them was clear. His fists would have to do. Quicksilver vanished in a blink, the women watching him with near-matching smirks. Enemies or not, he'd never hit a woman before. It was against his principles.

Tony said, "Steve, I'm at your six," eliminating the need to solve his morality crisis.

Steve whirled. The MARK suit was almost on top of him, barreling in faster than Steve was expecting. Twisting to the side, he felt the metal of Tony's machine scrape across his chest. The durable fabric of his uniform tore like tissue.

Steve backed up, narrowing his eyes at the MARK before he glanced at Magneto. Flying Tony's suit around didn't seem to be any sort of effort. Magneto flipped his hand and Tony turned in the air. Thinking the mutant couldn't replicate much dexterity; Steve feinted left and ran right. Tony was in front of him in a second.

Far out of reach, Scarlet Witch and Mystique walked through the door.

"Get out of here!"

"Trying," Steve growled.

The MARK suit attacked, almost as fast as if Tony was the one controlling it. Steve leaned to the side to let his fist flash by. Jerky as it was, it took every bit of Steve's focus to avoid the strikes. He dodged away from the rapid punches and ducked under the flying kicks. His gut churned. He couldn't stop Tony without hurting him and even if he did decommission the suit, Magneto could still use the metal against him.

As the one-sided fight dragged on, Tony's pained grunts filled his earpiece. Steve knew the billionaire had to be struggling against every hit. He was afraid to think of what that was doing to Tony. Magneto used Tony's suit to keep Steve at a distance, blocking his attempts to charge him with his husband's body. Steve could only back up and try to stay ahead of the attack.

"You've got to fight back," Tony gasped. "Do whatever you have to do, you're running out of time."

They were wasting precious minutes, but Steve rebelled against the idea of hurting Tony. He couldn't. Steve shook his head almost violently, the action costing him his advantage. The MARK's fist caught him on the side of his jaw and sent him sprawling. He landed hard on one knee and hand, pain crackling through his skull.

"Shit! Get up, Steve!"

He'd only pushed himself to his knees when a red, metallic arm locked around his throat. His knees left the ground, then his feet, Tony holding him up as they returned to the air. The strength of the hold was more than the suit was capable of, more than Tony was capable of. Steve pulled at the wrist joint and jammed his fingers in the crease between the metal and his cloth covered neck. His muscles strained and shook from the effort of trying to free himself.

Steve opened his mouth to gasp, but couldn't force any air past the crush of the armor's hold. His gaze swam. He slammed his elbow into the suit again and again, failing to dislodge it. Red fog gripped his mind. He couldn't think. At the edge of his fading vision, he saw Magneto walking towards them. The old man's hand stretched out in their direction, his fingers like talons as he forced the MARK's arm to tighten.

"Jarvis, internally detonate the shoulder-mounted missiles," Tony's voice whispered, a sure, but fearful order.

He tried to say something. _No, Tony! Don't!_ he screamed without making a sound.

Even muffled by the layers of armor, the explosion was loud enough to make Steve's ears ring. The shockwave hit his back, shoving him out of Tony's hold like an invisible hand. A burst of pain radiated from his shoulder. Air rushed into his lungs. Steve dropped into a sloppy roll, coughing as he scrambled to his feet. Behind him, he heard the MARK slam into the ground.

The shoulder of the armor was a smoking, black ruin. Red and gold curled out, exposing sparking wires and still twitching mechanics. Tony's body bent at an odd angle, his hips turned to the side while his back was flat on the floor. The steady sounds of Tony's breathing were gone from Steve's earpiece, sending his heart into his intestines.

"Tony? Baby?" Steve croaked, his voice raw as it passed through his damaged esophagus.

He needed to run to him, to know how bad the damage was. He needed to rip the darkened helmet off so he could see the flutter of pulse at his carotid, but there was work to do. His teeth grinding, Steve faced. Magneto.

"For a few, you will be martyrs. For most, you will become examples," the silver-haired mutant explained, motioning at the rows of cameras at the back of the room.

Red lights glowed on all but two. Azazel had them diligently aimed in their direction, showing the nation, possibly the world, the fall of Iron Man. If Steve had his shield, he would take them all out. They weren't examples. Steve couldn't let them be examples, to let their struggles instill fear where there had once been hope.

"Rule with fear and get consumed by it," Steve said bluntly, his hands curling into fists.

"Oh, I don't plan to rule, I am merely an agent of change. With the downfall of the homo sapien, my kind will rise as the dominant power on the Earth. Change is inevitable," Magneto's voice rose with the proclamations and the words rang hollow in the empty conference room. "and it begins with the human titans. Mutants are the gods of men, not you or your team, your Avengers. You are a simple nuisance, a bug to be crushed."

A vein pulsed at Steve's temple, hidden beneath his mask. He couldn't listen to anymore. Tony could be bleeding out inside his suit and their daughter was under threat. Steve had to act. Thinking there had been enough talk, Steve lunged instead. The mutant lifted both hands as if he welcomed the attack. Steve's fist wound like a spring, his muscles bulging under the patriotism.

Something caught his wrist.

His momentum dragged the interfering object into his back and an arm snaked around his shoulders. As the weight of the suit hit him, Steve stumbled. They went down together, the MARK's legs winding in Steve's legs and pinning them. Right at his ear, the damaged shoulder whined the un-oiled cry of metal grinding against metal. The suit rolled onto its back, leaving Steve lying uncomfortably on the steep arch of the chest plate. He fought with his free arm while the MARK stretched his other arm out to its full length and locked its fingers around his wrist.

The speaker in his ear clicked. "We're five minutes out," Natasha reassured him, her voice a static hum.

There was distance between the receivers, enough that Steve knew they were still over the Atlantic. They wouldn't get there in enough time to be effective backup. And, as bad of shape as they were in, Steve needed them to hunt down the other mutants.

Considering his code carefully, Steve said, "I copy, change ordinance." He grunted and twisted his wrist. The MARK snagged his free arm and yanked it behind his back, keeping the other arm stretched out. Not sure what was going on, Steve focused on getting the team where they would do the most good. "Russian retrieval, time to get happy."

"Do you know his location?"

"Can't say," his words were strained. Eyes flicking to Magneto, Steve clarified, "Compromised."

"Understood, we'll find him another way. I'm sending you Banner… just hang on."

Magneto stood over the struggling pair, a frown etching across his stone features. Directing his voice at Azazel, he said, "We're out of time. Fetch her."

The red creature nodded and flashed away in a puff of smoke. When the other mutant was gone, Magneto gestured at the cameras. The video equipment blasted to the side as if blown by hurricane force winds. A moment later, Azazel flashed into the room at Magneto's elbow, his arm wrapped around the thin waist of Raisa Golovin. In an expensive-looking pin stripe suit, with impeccable smoky make-up, Raisa didn't appear to be a woman who'd escaped a bright orange jumpsuit only days before. The hard-side case in her left hand made Steve nervous. It was almost a foot and a half wide, made of dark leather like a physician's toolkit.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stark, a pleasure, as always," she said with a wry smile.

Magneto turned and fixed her with a warning look, "Get it quickly. The others are on the way."

Scorn returned the look with one of her own, her heels tapping on the floor as she approached Steve and Tony. Crouching, Raisa set the case down and opened it. Dozens of glass vials nestled in a holder that made up the case's core. They were lined up in two layers, all of them empty.

Steve's recognition joined a churning sensation in his stomach. Those needles were for him. He remembered from the fiasco in Russia that she used his blood as a stabilizer for her serum. Steve wasn't great at mental math concerning volume and percentages, but he could bet that if they filled every vial, it wouldn't leave much for him to live on.

Brushing her thick braid off her shoulder, Raisa rummaged around in the bottom of the case and withdrew a pair of shears that were a step above scissors and just below wire-cutters. Steve stopped struggling as she brought them close to the arm Tony's suit had stretched out for her. She cut away his sleeve with precision, rolling it down over his glove. His skin twitched at her touch.

"Raisa, why are you doing this? Tony did everything he said he would. Your daughter is in a good home and you see her every week, why destroy all that?" Steve knew there was a compassionate woman buried beneath the criminal known as Scorn. He'd seen her. If his words reached her now, he couldn't tell.

Raisa carefully positioned the heavy gauge needle at the inside of Steve's elbow, punching through his tough skin with a deft flick of her wrist. Red bubbled up in the attached vial. While he waited for Raisa's answer, Steve frantically watched his blood drain. She swapped out vials seamlessly once the first one was full, sliding it into its cushioned holster without looking.

When she didn't speak, Steve tried again, "You can still make this right. Give yourself up and-"

"And I will go back to SHIELD's cage and look at my daughter through glass as she grows into a woman without me? No," her words were daggers.

Raisa traded to another empty vial. By the fifth one, Steve felt light-headed. His fight against the armor waned and he slowly relaxed against it. He tilted his face against the cool metal of Tony's helm, wishing he knew the state of the man inside.

Encouraging his floating mind to produce a means of escape did absolutely nothing. He'd already done everything he could think of. Even with all his strength, he couldn't pass the barrier between getting free and hurting Tony. When Tony warned him that it was a trap engineered for him, Steve should've listened. He knew that, but he would've made the same choice if the option came up again.

Steve's breaths turned rapid and shallow as Raisa filled the case. The ceiling blurred. A roar filled his ears and Steve blinked as the sky darkened above them. Lightning crackled, licking over the curled spines of skylight. The last of the glass exploded and rained down around them. Magneto lifted his head with a scowl.

Steve blinked. He thought Natasha said Banner was coming, not Thor. Though it was some kind of mystical metal, the demi-god's hammer was still metal. Steve tried to say as much into the group comm, but he couldn't arrange the sentence in his mind.

Raisa slid another full vial into the case, glancing up at the gathering storm as she slammed one more empty into the base of the needle. The wind picked up, swirling around the room. It buffeted everything. Bits of camera equipment and glass and loose paper lifted into the air stream. The debris stayed at the edge of the room, leaving the center and the five of them untouched.

"Our time is up. Get your samples," Magneto barked at Raisa. A blast of red energy screamed through the flying debris, barely missing Magneto's shoulder. He sidestepped it and peered through the swirling air, his voice distant, "You had to get involved, didn't you, Charles…"

"Release them," a woman boomed, her command backed by a bolt of lightning that struck the podium. The shrieking wind swallowed the fire it created and left behind charred bits of wood. The woman who'd spoken drifted down through the skylight, her eyes and hair the same brilliant shade of white. A tight, black uniform followed her every curve, a bright white cape fluttering from her back and wrists like wings.

Underneath Steve, Tony's armor went slack. The instant he was loose, Steve lunged past Raisa for the case, but she snatched it to her chest and scrambled backwards. Before he could catch her, Azazel's hand closed over her shoulder and they were both gone in a plume of smoke. The wind whipped the red mist away, removing all traces. Steve shoved himself to his feet, his eyes intent on Magneto. Dizziness dragged him sideways. He collapsed on his knees, panting and shivering.

The woman with white hair stalked across the room, another man with a strange eyepiece walking through the hissing wind. Like the first woman, he wore a black, leather suit, but his was defined by extra padding at the shoulders and chest for defense. Another girl came in behind him, a shock of bleached hair running to the right of her face, while the rest was dark brown.

Others came and Steve tensed as he watched them gather. His instincts said 'friends', but he worried about them being foes. He could barely stand and Tony hadn't moved since Magneto released his hold on the armor. He couldn't handle more foes, though he would try his damndest.

Though he was alone, and surrounded, Magneto smirked at the show of power. Steve noticed that none of the newcomers went anywhere near him. They stopped far out of reach, their eyes cautious and their frames rigid with anticipation. The man with the eyepiece lifted his hand to the side of the device when Magneto chuckled.

"Why do you always send children to face me, Charles?" the Brotherhood leader asked the air.

There was no answer that Steve could hear. Azazel materialized in front of Magneto, slapped his hands down on the older man's shoulders, and vanished with him. The moment he was gone, the other mutants seemed to breathe out a collective sigh of relief. The swirling air died as the woman with the cape lowered her arms, the sky above them clearing. Debris clattered and clanged to the ground around them.

The new mutants looked to Steve, a few curious, a few worried. He stood over Tony in the best defensive stance he could manage, his hope carefully guarded. As the man with the eye-gear stepped towards him, a more familiar body sauntered into the room. Steve only knew him from the SHIELD files, but he knew Fury wanted him for the team and that meant he was safe. Wolverine chewed on the end of an unlit cigar, surveying the damaged room and Tony and Steve without a word.

The first man didn't look happy, "Logan, you know you're supposed to stay back when-"

"When what? When you completely fail to capture Magneto? He's gone now, get your panties out of the crack of your ass," Wolverine snarled. As he approached, Steve realized he was shorter in person than he looked fighting Raisa's monsters on television. A lot shorter. If Steve was standing upright, the guy would barely come to his chin.

The woman with Thor-like powers sighed at them, "This is not productive."

Wolverine ignored her, quirking his head in Steve's direction, "What's with Uncle Sam?"

"Captain America," the girl with the streak of white corrected him. She had a southern twang to her tone that made everything seem sweet, but strangely edged. "Magneto targeted the Avengers to make an example out of them. He's trying to rally other mutants."

Deciding that they weren't a threat to him, Steve knelt at Tony's side. While they argued, he clumsily searched for the release under the jaw of the helmet. He found it after a few moments of searching, but the helm didn't respond to his touch. The eyes were dark, leading Steve to assume that he had no power.

A shadow fell across his husband's suit and Steve instinctually balled his hands into fists, ready for a fight. The man with the eyepiece held up his hands, "It's alright, I just want to help." As Steve lowered his guard, the man offered one hand in greeting, "I'm Cyclops and these are the X-Men."

"Think you already know me," Steve said, but shook his hand anyway. "Captain America."

A muffled, weak voice cut into the conversation, "And I'm Tony fucking Stark. Can we skip introductions and get me out of this scrap?"

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TBC…

Steve needs a cookie. And some orange juice. ASAP. Now, I'm going to flail because I actually get to USE WOLVERINE IN THIS STORY! Not that it was the overall goal, but I'm ecstatic. I love me some tiny, angry Canadian.


	5. Paperback Consolation

A/N: I'm sorry, sorry, sorry this took so long. I've been having some issues working late since I'm developing migraines from lack of sleep. It's cut my productivity in half because I ALWAYS work on my stories after midnight. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long, but I don't want to make any promises when I have so little time to write.

For those of you wondering about the mix of X-Men characters, think of them as an eclectic collection from both movieverse and comic. I want to base them mostly out of the movieverse, but there were a few characters from the comic that I wanted (and needed) to use. So, think movie-version with extra characters thrown in.

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Annika liked being surrounded by books. It was one of her favorite things, to sit with thick tomes stacked around her, the knowledge within them in reaching distance. In the facility, books were some of the only entities she would encounter in the day. They spoke to her in the tiny room, telling her secrets and stories. They whispered of a life beyond the four walls that were her world, of green grass and tall trees and a sky so blue she could get lost in it.

Before Papa took her to Central Park for the first time, she'd never touched grass. The expanse of the Great Lawn was a wonder. She was tentative when she set foot on it, afraid the great, green ocean would swallow her, but within minutes, she was running barefoot and squealing with delight. Daylight was much better than the sickly, yellow glow of the overhead fluorescents at the facility. She tried to be good for her new parents so she would never, never have to go back there. She logically knew that her Daddy and Papa would keep her no matter what, but it was still a fear that crouched in the dark corners of her mind.

Curled up on a big chair in the Strand Bookstore with a tower of books to her right and her Papa's shield propped on the cushion beside her, she should've been content. The book in her lap felt like it was the only thing holding her down. She couldn't focus. It wasn't that the topic was boring to her, she'd been meaning to learn network analysis for some time, it was her mind that was elsewhere.

Mr. Hogan stood patiently beside her, his hands folded in front of him. It was the same stance he assumed while he waited by Tony's car. Normally, Annika liked talking to Happy. He was funny and nice and always had some kind of treat to give her for the car ride. Sometimes, it was a sheet of stickers or a coloring page, other times it was a sucker or piece of candy. They had to be careful if it was something sweet, because Daddy didn't like for her to have a lot of sugar. It didn't matter to Annika what it was, because everything was new to her.

While she was thinking about her fathers and hoping they would come get her soon, Annika stayed quiet. Not even Happy could make her smile, and that was unheard of. The lines of text in the networking book danced, ungraspable. The fourth time she read the same quote about Ethernet adapters, she sighed and closed the heavy tome.

She wished the Strand had a television so she could see what was happening to Steve and Tony. If Happy had a smart phone, she could use that, but the driver had a cell with a small screen and actual buttons. Besides Papa, Annika didn't know anyone else who had a phone with buttons. Though, she couldn't make a widespread conclusion without a complete set of data, after all she'd never seen Uncle Thor's cellular.

On the first floor, a commotion flared. Mr. Hogan straightened up and tried to peer over the railing of the stairs to see the person the employee was arguing with. An answering bellow made him wipe some of the sweat off his forehead, "I will not be denied entrance to your establishment, as I have a need to locate an individual inside."

"They're costumes," another man said apologetically, Mr. Barton, Annika thought. "His hammer is resin, don't worry about it."

Annika jumped up, her book sliding off her lap and onto the floor. She tripped over it in her hurry to get to the familiar voices. Knowing she was being naïve, Annika looked for the red metal suit and the bright, patriotic uniform as she raced down the staircase. Thor and Hawkeye were the only ones in the store. Disappointment flooded her round features, but Annika managed to hold back the threatening tears.

The gigantic blond pushed past the employee, his crimson cape flapping behind him as he quickly traversed the aisle. The old hardwood flooring creaked under his heavy steps. Annika lifted her arms in a silent plea and he gathered her into a comforting hold. "Do not weep, little one," Thor crooned, using a hand big enough to engulf her entire skull to stroke her hair. "All will be well soon."

Happy joined them, the forgotten shield looking very out of place on his forearm, "Have you heard anything? Are they okay?"

"We have only the coded instructions the Captain managed to divulge. He said we were to find you, that Annika was under threat."

Near the door, Clint yelled, "I think we should go."

"Agreed," Thor returned, brushing his fingers over Annika's back.

She gripped the cape at his shoulder as they moved toward the door. The employee glared at them, but kept his mouth shut. Annika didn't understand why he was so angry. Even with weapons, Uncle Thor and Clint would never hurt anyone innocent. They were the good guys. Other patrons of the store were staring openly at them over tables of best-sellers and new-releases. One boy jumped up and down and shouted, "Look, Dad, the Avengers!" His dad gaped.

Clint fell into the back of the line as they left, his head and body rotating to watch for any threats. Clint was always looking for threats. Annika knew if there was somewhere high he could perch, he would be there. Out on the sidewalk, they met up with Natasha. The usual shiver raced up Annika's spine when she saw the woman. The things her mother had screamed in Russia still terrified her, that the redhead was a murderer.

Annika knew more about blood and death than a child had any right to. There was a scientist at the facility that would take her out of her cell sometimes and show her what her mother's work did to lab animals. He made her watch them thrash, rabbits and rats and, later, monkeys. The biological agent took them apart from the inside, made their eyes bulge with excess blood until they popped like grapes.

Later, Annika learned that it worked a lot like Ebola, but with a higher death rate. She could understand the science, but she couldn't understand why they were making her mother create such a horrible thing. What Ms. Romanov had done was different, but parallel. Blood could stain someone's hands from a distance just as easily as it could up close.

"Banner says Rogers and Stark are clear, but Stark is wounded. Another group called the X-Men came in to assist," Natasha explained and fell into step beside them.

Annika's eyes darted to Natasha as she heard her Daddy was hurt. She wanted to ask for details, but she couldn't force the words out of her mouth. It seemed like even they were afraid of the redhead. They stayed on her tongue, so she closed her mouth and listened.

Thor frowned, "Are these axed men allies? And, if they have been axed, why have they not died from such grievous injuries? Unless they carry axes, in which case, they meet my approval."

"Not Ax Men, X-Men," Clint clarified, his eyes roaming over the busy street. "They're mutants that fight as a unit, like us. Fury meets with their leader from time to time, trying to recruit new agents."

The adults kept talking, but Annika sat up straight in Thor's arms, her skin prickling. There was something coming. The energy it exuded crackled along Annika's nerve-endings, the burning trace similar to that of the man who controlled metal, but not the same. It was more unpredictable. As it approached, she managed to separate it into three distinct sources.

"Uncle Thor..." she said, her voice quietly fearful.

His arm tightened around her as his gaze dropped to her worried face, but before he could react, one of the three mutants approached like a bullet out of a gun. Annika felt the hand close over the back of her jacket. The tug against her shoulders hurt, but Thor's hold was tight and the soft, pink cotton gave way before she was yanked out of his grip. No one could blink in the time it took the mutant to run by. He was gone before the tatters of her sweater fell to the ground. His passing ruffled Thor's long hair.

Clint fitted an arrow and aimed in the direction he'd gone, scaring a pair of civilians that were walking several yards behind them.

"What was that?" Happy shouted, raising the shield in front of his chest.

Natasha's hands went to her guns, but she didn't draw them. She narrowed her eyes, "Quicksilver. If he's here, his sister, Scarlet Witch, will be too."

Annika noticed them making a defensive line around her. Thor backed to the gray slate building behind him, hoisting his enchanted hammer in a warning gesture. The two agents flanked him as people seemed to disappear into every shop and deli on the row, getting out of their way. Drumming his fingers on the shield nervously, Happy stayed out in the open.

"You should go back inside," Natasha told the driver, not taking her eyes off the right side of the street.

He immediately started moving, "Yeah, okay. I think there's a coffee shop down the street, I'm going to get some."

"Iced, no sugar," Clint said, aiming his arrow as two figures appeared at the end of the block.

Annika wondered where the third was. She'd felt three distinct energies, though these were the ones that had the same pattern as the man who controlled her Daddy's suit. The pair stood close, the silver-haired man several inches taller than the woman. The man scowled at them, the remnants of Annika's jacket in hand, but the woman's face was serene. It was her power that Annika couldn't pin down.

Natasha drew both guns, "I want mine black, Harold."

Happy hesitated by a pair of benches, the unwashed occupant of the closer bench looking up at the shield in his hands. The vagrant's little dog barked wildly in Happy's direction. It snapped at the cuff of his pants, the short leash tethering him to the vagabond popped each time he hit the end of it.

"I thought you'd be taller," the homeless man mentioned, scratching at his scraggly, yellow beard.

Ignoring him, Happy's eyes darted between Annika and the two mutants in the street, "Should I take her?"

Annika whimpered and gripped Uncle Thor's armor at the shoulder, her soft skin catching on the plate metal covering his arms. The cuts were too small to garner any attention. The driver was kind, but the mutants would take him apart to get to her. Annika knew they were both safer if she stayed with the demi-god.

"Go," Natasha pressed, finally spurring Happy into motion.

Once he was gone, the street was nearly deserted. The people of New York peered warily from storefronts at the strangely dressed mutants and heroes. Annika knew the city suffered attacks more often than most, though doing the statistics didn't enlighten her as to why. It was as if the high-density population had developed its own gravity that drew in outside threats. She wondered if this was why her fathers chose to live in this city.

The woman in red approached them, her costume catching the sun and keeping it hostage in liquid lines on her figure. Her brother followed a step behind her. He tossed the fabric from Annika's sweater and let it somersault to the street. The pink scrap was like a lonely piece of confetti after a parade.

"You will give us the girl," Scarlet Witch said as her fingertips sparked with energy.

Thor drew Annika closer and raised his voice, "There is no universe in which your statement would ring true. We shall defend her and it is you who will return with no prize."

Fear rose like bile in the back of Annika's throat. Why did these people want to take her away? She didn't think she'd done anything wrong. No one acted like she'd done something bad, but she babbled uncontrollably, "I'm sorry about Daddy's TV and the lights and all those times I made the kitchen stuff act funny around Papa! Don't let them take me, Uncle Thor! I'm sorry!"

"No one will make off with you this day, little one," Thor responded and raised his hammer. The vein at his forehead stood out as he challenged the mutants, "If you believe yourselves capable, then why dally? Come at us!"

"I'd rather we didn't provoke them," Clint said. "I'm not overly fond of being on ground level."

The silver-haired man broke away from his sister, keeping his eyes on Annika as he circled around them. Clint shifted his arrow to follow Quicksilver's motion while Natasha kept her aim on the sister. The air was so quiet and tight that Annika could hear the hum of electricity from the neon sign across the street.

Scarlet Witch flicked her hand out to the side, the crackles of power swirling around her fingers and vanishing. Annika felt it hit the car. At the next stoplight, an engine revved, the tires squealing against the pavement as the brakes gave out. It careened down the road, the driver's eyes nearly white with terror.

Annika frowned in concentration. Scarlet Witch's power was a spark. It was gone almost as soon as it touched the car, but it set into motion something much bigger than a spark could ever be. As the sedan bounced up onto the curb, the Avengers scattered. Clint rolled forward, launching a pair of arrows into the front tires at the lowest point in his tumble. The explosive burst of air sent bits of rubber flying. Though the tires were flat, it didn't slow the vehicle's momentum. Thor backed away when the car turned to follow him, his hammer held at the ready.

"Stop!" Annika screamed, reminding each mechanical part how to do its job. The brakes clamped down and the anti-lock systems went into effect. When the supply of gas cut off at the tank, the sedan's nose dipped and it finally slowed to a stop near Thor's shins. The engine ticked as it cooled.

They all looked at her, villains and heroes alike. Clint had another arrow notched, aiming at Quicksilver though his face was turned away. Natasha only glanced at her, returning her attention to Scarlet Witch as the woman whispered, "She's one of us."

"Wait a minute, Stark's kid is a mutant?" Clint asked, bewildered.

Unaffected by the news, Thor reminded them, "It matters not. We will defend her the same."

The street exploded in a flurry of activity that made Annika cringe. Natasha's pistols fired, pumping off rapid shots that ricocheted on Scarlet Witch's energy field. Bullets whistled in every direction. They struck car windows and buildings and lampposts. Scarlet Witch sent a spark in Natasha's direction and the guns clicked.

"I'm jammed," the redhead shouted and dropped the pistols.

Quicksilver was too fast to hit. He dodged Clint's arrows as if they were standing still, a satisfied smirk on his face. The archer glanced back at Thor, his fingers twitching on his bow. On his back, the mechanics in his quiver whirred softly and he snatched another arrow. Thor saw the tip and nodded. As Clint shot the arrow into the door of a car behind Quicksilver, Thor raised his hammer and called lightning from the sky. It struck the ground in a chain, leaving behind smoking craters.

Quicksilver danced back from the bolts, his smirk fading. Lightning was much faster than bullets and arrows, so he had a hard time staying ahead of it. He darted toward the car as a bolt struck dangerously close to his feet, and the tip of Clint's arrow exploded.

Annika blinked at the burst of fire and Quicksilver was gone. At their right, Natasha charged the other woman, her wrist tasers flashing and crackling through the air. Scarlet Witch ducked and weaved to avoid her attacks.

The spark glowed blue on her hands, jumping to Natasha's tasers. The weaponry pulsed as the voltage soared, giving a loud pop when the circuits overloaded. Natasha stumbled back and ripped at the searing gauntlets, throwing one down and then the other. The smell of burned flesh filled the air. Blackened fabric clung to Natasha's skin even after the tasers were gone. No emotion crossed the spy's face, no surprise or hurt. It made Annika uneasy, but she had very little time to think on it.

Quicksilver cut his pace enough to become visible, his arms a blur as he punched Clint's jaw and stomach. He kicked the archer's feet out from under him, but Clint landed on his hands and rolled his body through the air so he vaulted upright. Blocking two of Quicksilver's rapid blows with his wrist brace, Clint tossed his bow onto his back and switched to a knife he kept in his boot. The shiny length of metal flashed through the air without cutting anything.

Thor set Annika down with a curt, "Remain here," before he went to help. He threw the hammer, narrowly missing Mr. Barton, but catching Quicksilver's shoulder. Though the blow was glancing, the mutant spun to the ground.

Annika trembled in place, her big, green eyes trapped on the struggle. One sleeve of her torn jacket slipped down her arm and she numbly pushed it back into place. It fell again, bunching at her wrist.

A presence made her look up. Across the street, the red monster from her closet smiled at her. His teeth were sharp and white. Fear crashed through her and she ran. Braids streaming behind her like banners, Annika ran as fast and as hard as she could. Her saddle shoes slapped the concrete, the sound overtaking Thor calling her name.

Annika banged both hands against the glass door of the bookstore. She shoved her way inside, dodging around the low tables full of best-sellers and the clusters of terrified customers that were staring out the windows. She ducked a portly woman that reached for her, ignoring the concerned, "Oh sweetie, where are your parents?" Only when the shelves rose up around her, full of books and silence, did she slow down.

Maneuvering the maze of the Strand, Annika found her favorite section near the back of the first floor. Science and Mathematics was made up of thick tomes and an uninspiring color palate of spines. She sat on the floor in front of a shelf labeled 'Engineering' and drew her knees to her chest, whimpering softly into her folded arms. The books stared down at her solemnly. This particular section had no advice on fear; it only offered equations and logic.

The steady tap of dress shoes on wood approached her hiding place. Annika tightened her grip on her knees, balling up. She knew it wouldn't hide her, but she couldn't seem to do anything else. Muffled by the wall of paper, the footsteps moved through the next aisle. They went by her, pausing and scraping as the man making the noise turned.

"Annika? Baby? Where are you?"

Annika jolted at her Daddy's voice. Scrambling, she half-crawled, half-stumbled toward the comforting sound. "I'm here!" she cried and finally got to her feet. Her voice caught on the words, her throat tightening with relieved tears. "I'm here, Daddy!"

She barreled around the corner to find Tony smiling, holding his arms out for her. Built in caution screamed. Coming to a clumsy stop, Annika analyzed him with her mind firing on all cylinders. Something was wrong.

"I'm so glad you're okay," the Tony that didn't feel like Tony crooned at her. "Let's go home, baby."

When he took a step forward, Annika mirrored the movement in the other direction. She didn't know what was wrong. He looked like her adoptive father in every way. His brow tilted down with the same concern, his lips quirked to the side with the same silent question. His clothes were right, red, collared shirt under a dark suit-jacket with no tie, something he would wear if they were going out for a nice dinner. The wedding band with Papa's uniform colors glinted on his left hand and he had his customary Bluetooth hooked on one ear.

It was too right.

There were no injuries from his fight, no bruises or wounds. When her fathers left in uniform, they always came back with damage. Sometimes there were just scratches and sometimes there were lesions bad enough for stitches, but they never came back unscathed. Fueled by reason, her caution won out. Annika backed into a shelf as she tried to put more distance between them. The band of wood dug into her spine and her shoulders bumped into the books.

The imposter-Tony frowned, "Annika, honey, are you alright?"

"You're not Daddy," she proclaimed, more convinced with each second that passed. Saying it aloud just confirmed it in her mind.

The imposter's concern faded, his face smoothing out and his eyes narrowing. Annika shivered at the sudden change. Her deliberate steps backward picked up speed as she slid away from the shelf. She ran into a table full of geology books, jarring a text on sedimentary rocks off its stand. It banged onto the hardwood floor, the sound like a gunshot.

"Come here, you little brat," the person wearing her father's guise growled and lunged for her.

"Hey!"

Annika and the imposter turned at the sound to find Happy. He only had one cup of coffee, an empty drink caddy, and dark stains on his shirt. A drop of sweat trekked down his forehead, following the curve of his eyebrow. The imposter straightened and flipped on the Tony Expression, but Annika stayed where she was. She was too afraid to run to Happy, afraid he'd get killed. Death was inevitable, but she didn't want to be the one who caused it. Ever.

"Good, you've got Steve's shield. I need you to go get the car, we're going home," fake Tony ordered.

Happy took the lid off the coffee, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Stark."

"Why can't y-"

He threw the full container of scalding liquid at the mutant. It splashed over the imposter's face and chest, hitting only one side as he tried to turn away. Tony's image flared with layers of blue skin and the imposter screamed. Slender hands went to the burned face as the features slimmed. Red overtook her Daddy's dark hair from the roots, the slight wave falling flat and smoothing out. The clothing folded back on itself until all that was left was blue, scaly skin.

Happy grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the shape-changer. Hoisting her into his arms, he fled the building. Annika held on tightly, not bothering to reprimand the driver for the bad words he muttered between breaths. They took a left out the door, away from the fighting, going past dozens of curious eyes in the coffee shop. The car was parked two blocks south. Happy ran the entire way.

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Tony woke with a start and groaned at the shot of pain that ripped through his shoulder. Going still, he opened his eyes to inspect his surroundings. The last thing written to short-term memory was Steve struggling to get him out of his damaged armor and a guy with a pair of idiotic sunglasses leaning down to help. There were flashes after that, Steve carrying him, Banner showing up, but nothing particularly enlightening.

When his gaze caught the SHIELD logo on the door, he closed his eyes again. It had to be the helicarrier. They'd all seen the inside of the onboard hospital wing too many times. With the exception of Banner, since the wounds he sustained as the Hulk never seemed to follow him through the change.

Tony remembered the sterile environment well enough, he didn't need to examine it any further. Each room was outfitted the same way. There was a narrow bed on the wall facing the door, a stand of hi-tech monitors built into the gray steel along with a variety of IV hooks. An incredibly uncomfortable chair with no cushion flanked the bed, a place Steve had slept more than once. It was currently unoccupied, but Tony knew his husband wouldn't be far. His daughter, on the other hand, he wasn't sure. There was no way he could rest until he found out where she was and if she was safe.

Feeling his years, Tony sat up very slowly. He ached everywhere. An ice bath was in order, and maybe a tall glass of scotch. He needed to know the extent of the damage and he wasn't inclined to wait for one of Fury's pet doctors to show up. That would take so much longer and he'd have to listen to a million suggestions and warnings before they'd let him leave. His patience wouldn't stretch that far.

Beneath the ugly hospital gown he detested, Tony found purple-black bruising at his joints and a thick bandage of gauze wrapped around his shoulder. He had a good idea of what was underneath, considering he'd blown his guided micro-missiles inside his armor. The skin was undoubtedly shredded, possibly down to the muscle. He could still lift his arm, even if it hurt fiercely, so the wound didn't go all the way to the bone. The interior layer of the MARK had provided some protection, like he hoped it would.

A pair of black electrodes stuck to the skin on either side of his arc. Tony left them in place as long as he could. The moment they were gone, his EKG would flat line and every doctor and nurse in the facility would come running. Since the wires ran under his gown, he didn't have to work around them to strip out of the thin material. He lifted it over his head, hissing as he pushed it over the bad shoulder.

His clothes were in a bag beneath the bed, as they always were. The shirt was bloody and cut cleanly from hem to shoulder, he assumed by a pair of medical sheers when they were working on him. Shaking the jeans out of the blue plastic, Tony slipped them on without bothering with his underwear. His left hand wasn't as dexterous as his right, so he fumbled with the zipper. Cursing his ineptitude, Tony finally got the button pushed through the hole and the zipper yanked into place. He hoped there wasn't any permanent damage to his arm, but he didn't want to think about that.

Since he was too sore to lean down and tie his shoes, Tony went barefoot. The jeans would have to be enough. Tony yanked the wires off his chest and checked the lid of the reactor on instinct. He flattened his palm over the smooth polycarbonate, his thumb circling the metal casing. It was outdated again.

A red light flashed above the bed as all of the lines on the monitor went flat. Tony pushed through the door a few steps ahead of the doctors rushing down the hall. He waved off their "Mr. Stark, you should be resting-" and walked past them.

"Where's my daughter?" he asked sharply and stalked through the tiny hospital.

He passed the nurse's station with its curved desk and poorly hidden television. Though he only caught a glimpse of the screen, Tony recognized the cheesy setup of a daytime soap. The rest of the wing was empty, which Tony was relieved to see. Steve recovered quickly, but he half expected the soldier to be in one of the rooms, hooked up to a dozen IVs. He'd lost a lot of blood to Raisa.

The thought made Tony's insides roil. Scorn created enough serum for several dozen mini-Hulks with just a few vials from the tower's lab. With as much as she'd taken, she could make an army. However, she'd used Banner's blood too and getting that would be no easy task. If they were lucky, that would slow her down. Tony didn't make crap bets, they were never lucky when it came to the villains they faced. He knew they needed to be prepared for a full-scale attack and soon.

The other doctors fell behind, but one with tortoise shell glasses trotted to keep up with his rapid stride, "She's with your husband. Please, Mr. Stark, we need you to return to your room and-"

"Wasted effort. You might as well go back to your soap opera," Tony stated with a dismissive hand gesture. "Could be a spoiler, but she's cheating on Raul."

"Mr. Stark, really. You're not ready for-"

"And I'm pretty sure Fabio is going to wake up from his coma soon, but he won't remember who he is and Jenna will be crushed. She's very emotional, she's pregnant with his baby," he said as he passed through the double doors etched with the SHIELD eagle.

Beyond the hospital wing, no one seemed to give a rat's ass that he was out of bed. Fury's agents were used to getting knocked around and getting right back up, so it didn't faze them that he was bruised and bandaged. Tony was thankful for the reprieve, but he knew it would start again when he found Steve. His husband would say something at least once, but the soldier knew him too well to be a broken record on the subject. Nothing got on Tony's nerves faster than someone repeated the same suggestion over and over. If he said 'no' the first time, then he meant it.

Figuring everyone would be on the bridge at Fury's personal conference table, Tony ducked through a few bulkheads and headed upstairs. His knees complained on the steps, but he only had to go up one floor. As he approached the front of the helicarrier, Annika spotted him through the glass doors. Tony saw her squeal, saw Steve and the others look up at the cry, but couldn't hear it until she pushed open the soundproof doors.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed and careened into his legs, hugging one fiercely.

Tony nearly fell over. Wincing, he said, "Gentle sweetheart, gentle. Daddy's not in great shape," and scooped her up with his good arm. Twinges of pain radiated from his elbow and wrist, but not enough to put her down.

Annika buried her face in his neck for a moment, talking rapidly about how the mutants came and how scared she was and how the one that looked like him came after her. It was hard to follow with her accent surfacing at odd points in the story, but the entire thing made Tony clutch her more tightly. He wasn't there and he should've been. When she got down to Happy taking on Mystique and running Annika to the car, Tony was thinking he needed to give the man a gigantic bonus.

"What happened after that? Did they beat the other mutants?"

Annika shook her head. "The really, really fast one ran away and the lady who made things malfunction got taken by the scary guy from my closet. And then we came here. And they gave Papa epupneprun and now he can't sit still. They couldn't give him bag blood because he's so different," as she explained, she continued to hug tightly on his neck.

On the other side of the door, Steve had gotten to his feet. He looked a little pale, but no worse for wear, though Tony could see the nervous jitter in his big frame. The blond had his weight on one foot, the other foot tapping as if it was driven by the fastest song in the world. Their eyes met through the etched glass. Steve made an aborted attempt to come out to meet him, but stopped before he took a step. There was definitely a meeting going on.

"Epinephrine," Tony corrected Annika. "They used epinephrine because it increases the heart's output and narrows the blood vessels so the tissues get more oxygen."

Twisting her mouth to the side, Annika furrowed her brow and tested out the word, "Epine- epineprin"

"Ep-i-neph-rine."

"Daddy, that's a hard word. Can't I just say adrenaline?"

"No, because it's synthetic adrenaline and you remember all this from our biology lesson a few weeks ago," Tony reminded her. Balancing Annika on his hip, Tony entered the upper-level of the bridge with as much swagger and arrogance as he usually did, "So, what did I miss? Besides Fury's informational blackout that nearly got me and Cap killed."

"We did not anticipate that Magneto would target you," Fury snapped from his command center near the head of the table. He had his hands folded behind him, his good eye tracking some information across the screen at his left.

Outside the massive windows, Tony could see the curved smear of land that had to be the east coast. They were far enough out to sea for the helicarrier's intelligent camo-plating to hide them, but, by Tony's estimation, they were hovering at around forty-thousand feet. At that height, even visible, they'd be a spec to any onlooker.

Fury touched the red screen and flicked the message off to the side before he turned his full attention to Tony, "It was a poor decision to leave you at a tactical disadvantage."

"Is there an apology in there, Fury? I thought I heard it, but it was too well hidden."

The director's eye narrowed, "Why don't you take a seat?"

There were more people surrounding the conference table than usual. Tony's teammates were in their chairs, except for Steve who came over to check on him and murmur, "You should be resting."

Tony could say the same about him. Judging by the size and shape of the vials Raisa filled, Tony extruded that Steve lost more blood than an average human could live without by almost three percent. He should've been unconscious at least, but not Steve Rogers, no. Dressed in the reserve uniform he kept with SHIELD, Steve looked as though he could take on anyone who crossed him.

Getting close, Tony's lips brushed against the shell of his husband's ear as he said, "I'm fine. I need to be here."

Steve nodded and ushered him to his vacated chair. The seat was still warm.

Tony scanned the other occupants of the room as he situated Annika in his lap. Their codenames and powers were familiar to him from Fury's potential agent list. While he'd only gone through a fraction of the Brotherhood files, Tony had hacked into the X-Men files months ago. Sitting between Natasha and Thor was a young woman with a thick streak of white in her hair. Rogue, he thought her name was. Tony took note not to touch her skin.

Behind her was a kid with icy-blue eyes. His hand rested possessively on the back of Rogue's chair. It was hard to identify him when he wasn't covered in ice, but Tony was almost certain he was Iceman. He wouldn't give the kid any points for creativity on that one.

The guy with the weird specs and a woman with a long, white cape stood near the front of the table with a bald man in a wheelchair. Tony checked them off the mental list, Cyclops, Storm, and Professor X. Fury wanted Storm for the team, along with Wolverine who leaned uninterestedly on the wall farthest from the table.

"Let's get started," Fury said as he walked through their midst. "We have a very big problem here, people."

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Ugh, TBC, but I hate to leave it there. I have another couple of pages for this scene that I'm not done with, but they'll just be part of the next chapter. I know you all have waited long enough for this update…


	6. Don't Take My Stuff

A/N - So. Many. Characters… oh my lord, what was I thinking. I don't have a beta, as usual, so point out mistakes for me. I'll edit them when they're discovered.

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Multitasking for Tony was like breathing to everyone else. It didn't take any effort. While Fury talked about the Brotherhood, Tony absorbed all of it and simultaneously penned out the designs for his new suit. He'd turned over the documents Fury had given to him and sketched dozens of potential concepts that wouldn't react to Magneto's mental control. His equations were getting too long for the paper.

"Mr. Stark, are we boring you?" Fury growled mid-sentence.

Tony waved his hand without looking up, "No, go on. I got it so far. Magneto has a helmet that keeps the good professor from finding him with the power amplifier he built in the basement. Though," tapping the pen to his jaw, Tony asked, "why aren't you searching for one of the teammates instead? Why look for him when he can block you- Graphene!"

The others stared at him blankly.

Tony rapidly adjusted his designs, marking through features that wouldn't calibrate with the material, "Nothing, continue. Just had an idea."

Graphene was still in the prototype phase, but prototype had never been a dirty word to Tony. In the article he'd read a few months ago, the initial testing showed a lot of promise for the material. He would need to synthesize a batch and do additional experiments to see if it would fit the bill, but his paper calculations had potential. It had the tinsel strength of metal and the conductivity of silicone. On the downside, his suit would be very light. Though, that could be an upside as well.

Outside of Tony's realm of propulsion and thrust-to-weight ratios, Professor X spoke, "There is no need to reprimand him, Director, he is capable of focusing on both issues at once. Magneto's allies are easier to track, as you say, but I believe Erik has replicated his helmet on a larger scale to hide them. The material he found to block my telepathy could be used to line a building, for example. Whenever they come into my realm of influence, they are alone."

"Magneto is always careful," Cyclops mentioned, drawing a snort from Wolverine. His eyes weren't visible beneath the pseudo-sunglasses, but the scowl he aimed in Wolverine's direction said enough. "What we don't know is what he's doing with this woman, she's not a mutant. Magneto doesn't usually associate with anyone who doesn't have the 'gift'. What's her role here?"

The Avengers shifted uncomfortably. Clint looked at the table, Steve crossed his arms over his chest and stepped away from the group, and Tony stopped writing. Thor and Natasha stayed quiet.

In his lap, Annika said, "You forgot to cube the trans-substantiated variable, Daddy."

When Fury's expression asked 'should she be here', Tony added the tiny three above the variable Annika indicated and shook his head, "She's not paying attention." To demonstrate, Tony asked, "Annika, do you want to go get some ice cream?"

The dark-haired girl slid her chubby fingers under the lines Tony's work, her lips moving as she silently read over the equation.

"See?"

"Your daughter has a remarkable mind, Mr. Stark, not something she inherited from you considering her actual parentage."

Tony glared, but it was Steve who snapped at the professor, "Raisa signed over her rights, so Annika IS ours. Don't suggest otherwise."

"It was not meant as an offense."

"You know damn well what it meant."

"Gentlemen," Fury's tone warned them into silence. "To get back on point, Raisa Golovin is a threat we've dealt with before. Using blood from two members of our team, she generated a serum that could transform ordinary men into creatures that had remarkable strength-"

"And rage issues," Clint tossed in.

Sinking down in his seat, Bruce twiddled his thumbs anxiously. He ran a hand through his mop of hair and gave a tight, half-smile, "It was a serum I'd been working on."

Tony could feel Steve's growing tension at his back. He didn't need to be in contact with the soldier, his anger was almost a physical presence. Steve never really forgave Bruce for the unauthorized experiment. It was a subject they all avoided. Tony heard the slide of fabric on leather and could picture Steve hooking his thumbs into his belt, his jaw set in a hard line.

Banner continued, "She modified the formula, it was meant to stabilize my... condition, not make other people change."

Wolverine pushed off the wall, his compact frame reminding Tony of a large predator preparing to spring. The man was small, but Tony remembered how effective he was in the fight in Washington. His voice was gruff, the way someone might sound after they'd woken up from a long nap, "Those are the things you called me in for a few months ago? They weren't so tough."

"Try fighting forty or fifty of them," Tony groused. "She got enough blood this time to make hundreds of them. Maybe thousands."

"But she's missing half the formula. She might be able to replicate the serum for the Captain, but she'd need the Stark tech that finished the job and those blueprints were vaulted," Bruce reminded them.

Tony was suddenly grateful he'd never digitized the rest of his old man's work. Though, officially, the blueprints still belonged to SHIELD and the US government, he wanted them back in his possession. Tony had seen them before, secretly taken a few photos he could study later, but he wasn't allowed access to them for long. The photos never made it into his AI's database, Fury deleted them before Tony ever got to the door. Not that he'd admit it, but the director was smart to do so, or they would've been one of the things Raisa stole when she hacked Jarvis.

Banner glanced around, his eyes jittery like he was searching for a way out. There was no green in them, so he wasn't panicking. It still made the others nervous, Natasha in particular. The spy slipped a bandaged hand beneath the table, presumably going for her gun even though they all knew Banner didn't respond well to getting shot.

Bruce drummed his fingers on the glass tabletop, his brow creasing, "From the data I gathered, I concluded that Erskine's original formula was based around the idea of lifting the human body to its greatest potential. It took what was already there-"

"Making what was good, great and what was bad, worse," Steve finished for him.

For the first time since the meeting started, Rogue raised her voice to be heard. She did it tentatively; as though she wasn't certain if she had the right to speak. Considering her age, she couldn't have been on the team long, "But you said he doesn't have the technology, right? How can they replicate it if they don't have everything they need?"

Her boyfriend, Tony could recognize an awkward young couple anywhere, cleared his throat, "Can they change the formula so they don't need the Stark stuff?"

Bruce spread his hands helplessly and shrugged, "It's possible. Raisa altered the original serum significantly in a very short period of time..."

"But there were casualties," Tony said and set his pen on the table. Annika snatched it the moment it left his hand, writing equations on another sheet in the big, sloppy letters of a child. With everyone's undivided attention, Tony explained, "In the warehouse... there were rooms, cells really, of failed experiments. Probably a hundred or so. She had to do a lot of testing before she got it right."

"And, when you turned in your report, why wasn't that in it?" Fury asked flatly and leaned on the table.

Tony frowned. He never turned in reports. In fact, he rarely attended debriefs unless Steve dragged him. Tony didn't think he'd even told Steve about what happened inside the warehouse. They touched on it, Steve knew he was taken hostage and that he'd fought his way out, but the discussion ended there.

"Uh, because I was busy fighting the fruits of her labors in Russia."

It could've gone on, Fury had a dozen reasons to yell at him between the snarky remark and the missing paperwork, but Fury let it go with a sigh, "Alright, so she'll need subjects to test on. What about this public statement for the mutants to rise up? What do we know about that?"

"The guy's full of hot air," Wolverine answered and thumbed his nose. He went back to the wall, leaning casually as he dug around in his jacket pockets.

When he pulled out a cigar, Fury spoke without turning away from the table, "I would appreciate it if you didn't smoke in my aircraft carrier." The edge in Fury's voice made it sound more like, 'I will throw you off the side of this boat if you light that.'

With a snort and a smirk, Logan tucked the cigar in the corner of his mouth but put his lighter away in his jeans pocket.

"The Brotherhood is constantly expanding and changing, but he's never made a call-to-arms before," Xavier admitted. As he braced his chin on his knuckles, his smooth head caught the sunlight coming through the expansive windows at the helicarrier's prow. "It's possible it was only a tactic to lure the Captain out into the open-"

Tony made a mental note to yell at Steve about that. Walking into a trap had no tactical advantage whatsoever and the soldier should've known better.

"-but it was also a show of power. By proving he has no fear of the Avengers he's given other mutants a reason to flock to his cause. Wherever he's hiding, he won't hold these gatherings there. Our best chance of finding them will be to target his attempts to garner forces."

While the professor mused aloud, Tony finished the layout for the new arc. He wouldn't be able to install it alone and there was no way he'd ask Steve to do it. Tony glanced up at Banner, staring until the other scientist noticed, and then lifted the page to show him. Banner's eyebrows raised and curved inward like concerned caterpillars. He shook his head. Tony nodded. Banner sighed and averted his eyes in silent agreement. Or he didn't want to 'talk' about it anymore.

Steve thumped his ear and Tony jerked his head away, "Ow! What?"

"Stop distracting Bruce."

Thor chuckled at them. He was always amused by petty arguments. For the thousandth time, Tony thought he should make him watch the Three Stooges. Slapstick humor was right up the Asgardian's alley.

"I'm not distracting him, I was asking him a question," Tony had to crane his neck to glare at Steve.

It was too much work, so he rubbed his ear and went back to his designs. In case Steve did happen to glance down at his papers, Tony slipped the reactor specs beneath the MARK stuff. He wouldn't be able to hide the new reactor for long, since it would be obvious the first time they got naked together, but he could at least postpone the impending argument.

"We've already started the search, but we'll be limited to existing cameras and facial recognition. Concerning Mystique, it's a bit limited," Fury said and gestured at the collection of agents working the computers on the level below them. Images of Azazel and Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch were scattered across the screens, the searches running at full speed.

"I will use Cerebro to expand the hunt for them. If possible, I would like to leave Cyclops and Storm here. They know Magneto and the Brotherhood very well, they will be assets to you," the professor offered. As he mentioned each mutant by name, they stood almost at attention.

Xavier's concentration seemed divided. Like Tony, he was involved enough in the discussion to respond appropriately, but his gaze continually strayed to Annika. Tony wrapped a protective arm around her, narrowing his eyes at the psychic. The file on Professor X was not overly detailed. Tony knew he could look into the minds of others, but he wasn't sure why Xavier had an interest in his daughter.

When the professor noticed Tony's defensiveness, their eyes connected over the conference table. Tony felt him brush through his mind. It was a completely unique experience, like someone was remote-accessing his internal databanks. Not sure how to keep him out, Tony blinked rapidly and shook his head. He was still there, searching for something. Tony curled his hand into a fist on the table and turned a warning glare on him.

"Daddy?" Annika asked softly, her hand going to the corded muscle in his forearm. Her fingers left smears of pen ink on his skin. "What's wrong?"

Back in the conference room, the director nodded, "We'll be happy to have them. And I'd like to send one of my agents back with you and your team, so I stay informed. Ms. Roma-"

"I'll go," Steve said abruptly.

"You will?" Tony questioned and rotated in the swivel chair. His brow line climbed his forehead.

There was no reason for Steve to go, especially since he was the Avengers ground commander. One of the super spies could keep Fury informed and wouldn't be an obvious void in their defenses if they were gone. Well, there would still be a void, Tony figured out a long time ago that the spies could hold their own, but the void wouldn't be AS big if it was one of them. Tony didn't know how long it would take him to fabricate a new suit. The team would be down by two heavy hitters if Steve took off with Xavier.

Without a sound, Annika got off Tony's lap and ducked around the chair so she could reach the paperwork. She turned over another document, her equation running onto it like a river that had broken through a dam. More scratchy, misshaped letters and numbers filled the white space.

Steve shrugged, but offered no explanation. As if he was just noticing all the science spilling out on the table in front of him, the soldier asked, "Aren't those files confidential? You can't leave here with those."

Tony cleared his throat and started gathering them into a stack. He let Annika keep the one she was working on, tapping the others on the tabletop so the edges lined up.

"We would be honored to have the Captain ride along with us," Xavier got back to the topic at hand, not missing a beat. "If you can spare him, director."

Wolverine groaned and rolled his eyes, "Great. Exchange one tight ass for another." Tony liked him, he seemed like he'd be a good drinking buddy. He was just as moody and snarky as Tony could be some days.

"With two of yours with me, we'll be fine," Fury straightened and went over to the rail that separated the floors of the command deck. One of the computer techs reported that they still didn't have any matches and he turned back to the group. "Mr. Stark-"

Tony talked over him, "I'm going back to New York to build a new suit. I'm taking Banner."

"Do I get a say in this?" Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Folding them up, he hooked the frames in the collar of his shirt and reminded Tony, "I'm not going to be much use. I'm a biomedical scientist, not a mechanical engineer. And I'm definitely not that kind of doctor."

"Why would you need a doctor?"

Tony didn't acknowledge his husband's question, focusing instead on getting Banner to come back to the tower with him, "Look, if I'm going to get this thing operational before the next mission, I'm going to need another pair of hands. I trust your hands, not any SHIELD stoogey hands Fury is about to offer."

Fury crossed his arms over his chest and let out a slow huff of air. Tony was intentionally ambiguous about what it was he wanted Bruce's help with. The only one in the room that would know any better was Xavier and Tony didn't see why he would say anything. It was Tony's chest on the line, after all.

"You know the tech, Banner. I need you on this," Tony added, giving the other scientist the best puppy-eyes he could manage. With the cocky edge his smile naturally took on, Tony knew it wasn't terribly effective.

Banner chuckled and ducked his head, "You're not even close to being cute enough to pull that off."

"Steve disagrees with you."

"The doc is right, not cute enough," Natasha chipped in.

Tony rolled an annoyed look in her direction.

Before they could get any deeper in their childish banter, Fury cut into the argument, "Dr. Banner, we need Stark back online as soon as possible. If you can hurry things along, or even keep him focused, I would appreciate it."

Banner pressed his lips together, his laughter subdued, but not hidden, "I don't think anyone can keep Tony completely focused, but I'll try."

"Good enough."

As the group broke apart, Tony asked Annika about her equation and listened intently as she explained it. He took her hand and led her to the door while she talked about subatomic quarks. Steve followed closely, his hand going to the small of Tony's back.

"We're going to have a chat before you ship out with them," Tony said, his voice low.

Steve's thumb rubbed gently along his spine, "I figured."

Behind them, Fury dished out the last of the orders, giving them check-in times and rendezvous instructions as they moved in mass through the double doors. The X-Men mingled loosely with the Avengers, each group mostly keeping to themselves. Natasha and Clint fell into step together. They talked in low tones, but Tony caught Annika's name and looked up.

As he studied them, Clint broke away from the redhead, "Stark, your kid is-"

"Unique," Xavier's voice was gentle, but firm enough to make the archer go silent.

The professor came out of the control room last, Cyclops pushing his wheelchair through the scattered groups of mutants and heroes. Thor stepped back to give him enough room to pass. Instead of breaking apart to execute orders, the collection of people stayed to listen. The spies and demi-god exchanged glances that made Tony rub his daughter's hand.

"Unique doesn't really cover it, she's brilliant," Tony defended, his brow creasing as he tried to figure out why the mutants were so keenly interested in what was going on.

Ever nervous, Annika edged closer to his leg. Steve's fingers stilled, but stayed spread out on Tony's bare skin. His family was uncomfortable, unsettled by what was going on and it fed Tony's irritation.

Xavier agreed with him, but Tony knew appeasement when he heard it, "Yes, of course. She has a deep understanding of technology, doesn't she?"

"Your kid's a muta-" Clint stopped with his mouth open. As Xavier's gaze passed over him, he closed it and took a step back, his expression darkening. Tony didn't miss the tightening of the archer's shoulder muscles or the slight twitch in Xavier's expression.

"I'm sorry, Agent Barton, but things cannot be approached that way," the words were quiet and strangely calming. Xavier smiled at Tony, "There is much to explain. Your daughter has some extremely unique abilities that she is still learning to control."

Tony pressed into Steve's hand, letting his husband speak while he analyzed what they refused to say out loud. He knew before Xavier said it. Annika was a mutant. It made sense. The appliances going nuts without remote activation, the way she accessed parts of the tower that had high-level security encryption, it all fit.

The genome that caused mutation had a million different iterations, hundreds of thousands of possible outcomes that could manifest as anything from regeneration to the manipulation of matter. Annika's specific iteration gave her access to the inner workings of technologically advanced machines. It probably had a name, but Tony didn't need a name for it.

"We can teach her control," Steve said, surprising Tony. With a statement like that, he had to know about her already. Tony wondered why he didn't tell him.

Exuding authority, voice crackling, Storm informed them otherwise, "She needs to learn with those who understand her."

Xavier raised one hand to quiet Storm, keeping his attention focused on Tony and Steve, "Your daughter is a technopath. It is a very rare ability, but she would do well in my school for the gifted. We can teach her how to handle her powers, how to control them and help them grow."

"She should remain with her adoptive guardians," Thor argued for them. The big blond was in his toned down battle gear, exposing his massive arms and the intimidating flex as he put himself between the mutants and the Avengers. "No matter her capabilities, she should not be usurped from her home."

"Most mutants don't have a home after their discovered, happens all the time," Wolverine growled, stepping up to Thor. The top of his head was barely even with the demi-god's shoulders, but his snarl wasn't affected by it. He had enough attitude to compensate. He jabbed a finger in Thor's broad chest, his jaw rotating as he moved his unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, "And I don't like your tone, bub."

Clint braced his hands on his belt, "SHIELD has programs that could handle her training-"

"Absolutely not. We're not going to weaponize our little girl," Steve had to shout to get over the rest of the voices.

The volume rose, X-Men and Avengers yelling and arguing and gesturing. Tony clenched his teeth. Everyone had an opinion on the matter and it was a jockeying match to be the loudest voice in the dispute. The chaos brought Fury out of the control room. It was only seconds before he was involved in it as well. As the tension in the hall boiled over, Annika buried her face in Tony's thigh. Her tiny fingers gripped the seams of his pants until the digits were pale.

Tony looked down at her, his hands tightening into fists. He couldn't hear her fearful whimper, but he felt her tears soak into the denim. Inhaling deeply, Tony shouted over all of them, "Shut the hell up!"

The arguments broke apart as attention turned to him. Tony picked up Annika, his bad shoulder shooting pain at the motion, and cradled her against his chest. With a wet sniffle, she latched onto his neck, the arc lighting the space between them. One of her braids slid across his back as she put her head down. Tony stroked her hair, his dark eyes seething.

His words fell like stones in the silence. They were directed at Steve, but meant for the group, "I'm taking our daughter home."

Tony walked through the helicarrier halls without looking back. The tromp of Steve's boots joined the slap of his bare feet and Tony slowed to match pace with him. They passed a few unoccupied labs before they made a left that would take them toward the flight deck and the jets. Tony considered Steve's unconscious admittance concerning Annika's abilities. His tone lacked any vehemence when he asked, "How long have you known?" After the verbal battle they'd left behind, Tony didn't feel like arguing with his husband too.

"Found out this morning. She busted the television and a few lights when you…" Steve let the rest of the sentence die. Tony knew what he meant. "Didn't exactly get the chance to bring it up."

"Did I do something bad?"

Tony and Steve stopped at the sound of Annika's broken, tearful question. SHIELD crew passed around them until Steve took Tony's elbow and gently maneuvered him to a quieter hall. The narrow walkway was lined with doors and officer nameplates. Tony wasn't sure whether they were living quarters or cubicles.

"Sweetie, why would you think you did something wrong?" Tony questioned, trying to hoist Annika high enough that he could see her face. He winced when his wounded arm refused to do the work.

Steve took her around the waist, his red, heavy-duty gloves a sharp contrast against the pastel floral pattern of her dress. He made a seat out of one arm, letting her legs dangle over his forearm and her body lean against his chest. The streaks on her face were drying, but her big, green eyes watered threateningly.

She rubbed roughly at her face with her palms, "Because the people keep coming to take me away." Her pitch sharpened and fractured as the tears started fresh, "Why would they take me if I was being good?"

Tony's lips thinned as Steve's features twisted with confusion. "Where'd she get that idea?" Tony asked before Steve got the chance. The soldier shrugged helplessly.

Tilting his daughter's chin up, Tony told her, "Whether you're good or bad, we still love you and we won't let anyone take you away. Do you understand?" When she didn't respond, he asked again, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good," Tony sighed and brushed her tears away with his thumb.

Steve lifted her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "We should get you two on a jet. It's past lunch, bet you're hungry."

As he straightened, Tony caught a glimpse of the bruising at his husband's throat. It peaked through the fabric of his cowl, only visible because the mask hung off his shoulders. The battered flesh was already the ugly green and yellow of healing flesh, but it was still there, rising up past his Adam's apple as a dark reminder of their encounter. Tony's eyes stuck on it.

Steve talked easily as they walked, telling Annika that he wouldn't be coming home with them, but that he would be home soon. They discussed possible lunch options, Steve glancing over at Tony whenever she asked for something with a high fat content or too much sodium or sugar. It was one ongoing spat that Tony had no interest in at the moment. He walked a step ahead of Steve so he could watch the triangle of discolored flesh at the soldier's throat.

He wondered how it had bruised at all with all the blood Raisa had taken. Considering the amount of pressure Magneto applied with Tony's suit, the contusion had had time to rise before she got there. Steve's back should've been ripped up too. Tony's shoulder ached absently as he thought about it.

If the plan was to bring in Raisa, then Magneto wouldn't have killed Steve. They needed him. The explosion generated the opportunity for Steve to get away, but the stubborn bastard had stayed. Tony understood why, he knew why, but Steve could've gone and returned with backup.

"Tony, you alright?"

Tony's eyes tore away from the bruise and went to Steve's face. They traced the concern there, written in the crease between the soldier's brows and the parted lips. Tony wasn't sure whether he wanted to hit him or kiss him. He'd come so close to losing him. Their job description included a lot of close calls, but knowing that never made it any easier. When the situation was so hopeless it left Tony calculating that one of them might not make it out alive, the moment clung to him for days, sometimes weeks.

Annika multiplied that by a thousand. She needed them to come home after every mission, because she had no one else. As far as Tony was concerned, her mother was not an option. Raisa had so much hate built up inside her that it was leaking out her pores. Tony didn't want Annika anywhere near her. The visits in the penitentiary were different. Raisa was calm, almost normal once she was in jail, but loose, she reverted back to the personality she relied on for survival.

Steve put himself in a situation where Annika would lose both parents to a single event. Tony couldn't answer his question, because he was not 'alright'. He wasn't even close. When Tony got quiet, it was always a reason to worry, but Steve must've seen the anger in his eyes. The soldier didn't ask again.

When they got to the airlock that led outside, they found Banner waiting. The doctor had his threadbare sport coat thrown over his arm, his other hand stuffed in his pocket as he tried to dodge around the flights crews. There were more personnel than normal since they were prepping several jets. The pilot was easy to pick out of the collection of mechanics and inspectors. He was the only one not running. He passed by Bruce and said, "We'll be ready in twenty, sir."

"Uh, thank you," Banner responded uncertainly as the pilot saluted him and left. He crossed the room as Steve and Tony entered, looking over his shoulder toward the retreating pilot, "Do we officially have rank or something? I mean, you do, Steve, but what about-" Banner stopped talking when he spotted Tony's expression, his hands folding into their twiddling habit.

"Would you take her for a few minutes, Tony and I need to talk," Steve asked, setting Annika on her feet.

"Sure, I guess."

Kneeling to pull the hem of her dress straight, Steve soothed her before she could get too worked up, "Daddy and I will be back in a little bit, okay? Can you stay with Dr. Banner for me?"

Annika peered up at Bruce and he gave her a nervous smile. Banner was rarely around, but she knew him well enough that she wasn't going to run and hide in the nearest air duct. Pouting, she said, "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Steve echoed.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

Steve kissed her forehead and murmured, "Good girl. Daddy will be back in a minute, but I'm going to be gone a few days for work. Be good and I'll see you soon."

Tony waited until she'd hugged on him and they finished their goodbyes before he stalked deeper into the helicarrier. On his heels, Steve let out a loud exhale. It took a few locked doors for Tony to find an empty equipment room. There were several gun lockers along the wall and shelves of oxygen masks for the agents that needed to deal with threats on the deck. A prepping table held boxes of clips and magazines for the rifles.

Steve closed the door and Tony heard the click of the bolt sliding home, "Go ahead."

"You walked right into it!" Tony snarled, turning on his heel. "I told you it was a trap. You KNEW it was a trap, you didn't need me to tell you, and you came busting in anyway! You idiot!"

Steve stood with his thumbs hooked in his belt, back straight, shoulders squared, unmoved by Tony's anger. His words were even and low, "You were caught in the middle of it."

"I was the bait! Of course I was caught in the middle!" Tony shouted and flung his good arm through the air.

"Wouldn't hesitate to do it again."

Tony lifted his head, his nostrils flaring with his barely contained anger. His body hummed with it. Unable to stay still, Tony paced the tiny room. He could only take four steps before he had to change direction. Steve tracked him with his eyes, staying planted in front of the door with his feet shoulder-width apart.

The muscle in Steve's jaw twitched, but it was the only sign he was upset, "They were going to kill you-"

"Despite what everyone else seems to believe, you're not indestructible," Tony invaded Steve's space, standing toe-to-toe with him. "What was your contingency plan if they killed me anyway? You had no backup."

"Wasn't going to let that happen," Steve whispered, searching Tony's face. "If it were me, you would've done the same."

Tony knew it was true. He didn't need a plan before he jumped into action; he always dove headlong into the threat. The only thing he needed was a little incentive and he was there with weapons ready. If his husband was in danger, he wouldn't hesitate. Steve probably tried think of a good plan of attack before dropping into the middle of the Brotherhood. The problem was that there wasn't a good plan when a loved one was involved. It blinded to anything beyond 'save him'.

The rough palms of Steve's gloves touched his biceps and Tony's raging emotions morphed. He grabbed Steve's belt between the utility pockets, yanking him away from the door. Steve let Tony manhandle him. Without his cooperation, Tony wouldn't get him to go anywhere Steve didn't want to go. When Steve didn't want to move, it was like trying to drag a mule. A very big, blond mule.

Steve allowed Tony to maneuver him all the way to the table, sitting on the edge of it when Tony pushed him. As Tony frantically undid the catch to the utility belt, Steve peeled his gloves off. The moment the fabric was gone, Steve's overly large hands were in Tony's hair. They stroked through the messy strands, rubbing firmly at his scalp. Desperate heat bloomed in their movements. Steve's hands went from stroking to tugging as he drew Tony in to devour his mouth.

Tony shoved Steve's belt off and opened the catch underneath. Steve's costume was getting to be like his armor, Tony didn't have to see what he was doing to remove it. He knew every hook and button and zipper by heart. Tony slipped his hand into the durable material, gripping the soldier's hardening cock and drawing it out.

"Need," Tony breathed into Steve's lips.

"I know."

Steve hoisted him by the waistband of his pants and Tony spread his legs over the Captain's lap. Settling on his knees, Tony thumbed the button of his jeans out of the hole. Steve hooked the denim with his fingers, dragging it past Tony's ass and swelling cock. Already panting with arousal, the soldier gripped the globes of flesh and kissed the arc.

Tony couldn't wait for the daily worship to end. He stuck two fingers in his own mouth and slicked them with spit, reaching back to work himself open. His muscles were tight, but he pushed through them and spread his fingers. Spit was not lubricant. It got him wet but would do very little to ease the slide of Steve's cock. Tony didn't care. Even if it hurt, he needed to feel him.

Barely stretched, Tony pulled his fingers free and quickly stroked his husband's cock with what little spit was left. Steve blinked, his eyes contracted at the light from the arc as he glanced up at Tony.

When Tony guided the shaft to his hole, Steve's brow furrowed, "Wait, that's not enou-"

Tony shoved down anyway. He only took in a few inches before his body tightened around the invasion. Agony rose up his spine, hot and scalding. A ragged sound made it through his bared teeth as he rolled his body into the pain. Steve snatched his hips before he could go any farther, drawing him up off of his cock. The soldier pinned him against his chest with one arm, his grip a vice Tony couldn't break.

"Stop it," Steve murmured, making Tony shudder against him. "You're too dry. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Come off it, you've fucked me so hard I could barely walk," Tony growled and struggled in Steve's hold.

Hoisting him higher, Steve tilted his head back to look Tony in the eye. "Fucking you hard and fucking you raw are two different things," Steve argued softly and slipped two fingers into him. The lubricant was warm and Tony immediately filed it away as precome. Steve nuzzled under his jaw, being far sweeter than Tony felt he deserved, "I would tear you if we did it like that."

Tony tried to buck down onto his hand and speed things along, but Steve wouldn't let him move. When he'd nearly exhausted himself trying, Tony leaned on Steve's upper body and closed his eyes. Thorough and gentle as always, Steve took his time adding another finger. He coated Tony's insides and prepared the muscles more effectively, stretching him with three digits.

Eyes half-lidded with pleasure, Tony saw the bruising at Steve's throat again. He pushed the neckline of the cowl aside so he could examine the thick band of green and purple circling Steve's neck. Throat constricting in response, Tony pressed his cheek to Steve's forehead. His nails scratched over the blue, ultra-light Kevlar as a choked whimper crawled out his mouth.

The fingers in him retracted and both of Steve's hands went to his back, smoothing over his tense shoulders. Steve brought him to eye-level, resettling Tony on his knees, and wrapped him in a comforting hold. His lips brushed Tony's ear as he told him, "I'm okay. It's okay. It's all fine."

"It's not fine," Tony bit out. "He used me to get to you."

Tony breathed deeply through his nose, fisting Steve's uniform shirt as he tried to get a lid on his emotions. Anger and fear and despair rushed through him. They tugged at his chest and made his eyes sting. Tony hated feeling so out of control. Very few things could pitch him into turmoil of this degree, so few that he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so upset.

"Tony…" Steve kissed the skin below his ear, at the junction of his neck and jaw. "If you can't find an alternative to your titanium, I don't want you involved in this."

"I've already found it," Tony said immediately. "And it's a gold titanium alloy, not just titanium."

"But if you can't get the other stuff to work-"

"I will. Don't worry about my end, you just hunt these bastards down."

Steve sat up and kissed him. The wet slide of their mouths was loud in the equipment room, their tongues meeting roughly in the middle. Tony groaned low and opened his lips wider so Steve could get inside and dominate the kiss.

Feeling the nudge of Steve's cock, Tony took him in again. Being filled still sent traces of pain zigzagging up his body, but it was familiar pain. It was the slow burn of stretching out to accept Steve into him. His muscles relaxed around the shaft and Tony slid easily down to the base. When he felt Steve's crotch settle against his ass, he ground and rolled to feel the shape of his husband's dick.

Steve gasped and grabbed Tony's hips to still him, "Clearly you're okay. I didn't hurt you?"

"Nah, I'm peachy," Tony said and wriggled, forcing himself to tease Steve even though he wasn't really in the mood for it, "But next time, you get to bottom."

He was expecting Steve to ignore the comment, or outright deny it, or to flush and say he'd rather not. What Tony was not expecting was for Steve to go, "Alright, sounds swell."

Contact heat from the idea fried Tony's brain like an egg. His eyes went wide, bewilderment settling over everything else. When he stopped moving, Steve lifted him with the hold on his hipbones and slid deep again. The soldier moaned, not noticing Tony's stare until the second thrust.

Pausing, Steve drew back a little, "What?"

Tony continued to stare.

"What?" Steve rubbed a thumb over one of his cheekbones, "Honey, are you sure you're okay?"

Tony blinked once, very slowly, "I'm sorry, I had to reboot. Did you just say you would let me fuck you, or was I hallucinating that?"

A lewd grin curled the corner of Steve's mouth. His gaze was soft, amused but incredibly fond as he resumed pumping Tony on his cock. Each move made his biceps and chest bulge beneath his uniform, "You didn't think I was giving it to Bucky when I weighed a hundred pounds, did you? We went both ways after."

"Hold on, hold on," Tony gestured wildly with one hand, his face scrunching as he digested what he was hearing, "I could've been buried in that perfect ass for well over a YEAR and you never bothered to mention it?"

"You never asked," Steve said plainly, offering a slight shrug.

Tony glared at him, "Oh, I'm not going to forget this. Next time, I get to top. Maybe a couple of times. If I was really going to get even, I should be on top for the next year."

"But you like having me inside you too much for that," Steve explained the unvoiced part of that thought and Tony, unfortunately, couldn't disagree with it. His smile grew when Tony didn't respond, "Did I hit a nerve?"

"Shut up and move, soldier boy."

They couldn't find a pace, there was too much desperation hanging over them for that. Tony grumbled until Steve let his hips go, slamming down onto Steve's cock the moment he was loose. Rolling his whole body into the action, Tony rode him hard and fast. The rhythm would surface for a few seconds and then Steve would buck under him and it vanished in frantic groans.

"Oh yes," Steve crooned as sweat gathered at his brow. "Oh yes, Tony, faster, baby."

For once, Steve stayed passive under him. Tony was expecting that to change any moment, for him to lift him and push him against the wall or spread him out on the table, but it didn't happen. Steve palmed his erection and watched Tony with lust-blown pupils.

It wasn't meant to last. They didn't have time for anything drawn out. Tony cradled the back of Steve's head, leaning in to touch their lips together. As Steve wrapped a hand around his cock, Tony growled and increased his speed until he bounced off Steve's thighs with each slam. The upward stroke brought his erection deep into the sheath of Steve's hot palm, dragging him dangerously close to the edge.

Steve pressed his thumb into the underside and scraped it over the sensitive head on Tony's next thrust and Tony's release shuddered through him. Body seizing and bowing, Tony shot in hot spurts on their stomachs. He clenched his mouth shut to subdue the animal sounds, forcing them into a growl that hissed through his teeth.

As his interior walls contracted around Steve's cock, the soldier returned his sticky hand to Tony's hip and humped up into him. Tony absently realized that he'd gotten off the table and was holding Tony up as he rode out his release. Steve made one, sharp noise that was akin to a grunt and spilled inside Tony. Rolling his hips, Tony gave Steve a little extra friction to milk the last of the come.

Gasping, Tony said, "Your costume is going to stain."

"Let it, I have spares."

Steve sat back on the table and Tony wound his arms and legs around him so he could feel his heartbeat. He spread his palm over the star, relaxing at the rise and fall of Steve's chest. They clung to each other as Steve's cock softened inside him and come slid slowly down Tony's stomach. The desperation passed. They were both alive. They'd made it.

There would always be days like this, Tony knew there was no way around it. Not every mission was life threatening, but they would always find enemies that pushed them to their limits. Tony slanted his lips over Steve's mouth, letting them linger there.

_Be safe,_ he thought, words he was afraid to say out loud. It was as if speaking them to the air would curse them, though Tony didn't believe in things like that. Superstitions were ridiculous. Still, he kept his mouth shut.

"I'll meet you at the rendezvous," Tony stated, his voice confident.

Steve nodded, "Alright. Get some sleep at some point and make sure Annika gets to bed too. I know how the two of you are."

"Yeah, yeah."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Holy crap that was a long chapter. There was just so much I wanted to put in it that it kept growing! I know the sex scene was not as long as usual, but they had a time limit. And I seriously hate writing scenes with a million characters… I'm splitting up the groups for the sake of my sanity. Steve gets to hang out with Wolverine, could be awkward.


	7. Gifted

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The X-Men jet was much bigger than the one the Avengers flew to various missions. It was long and sleek, and capable of stealth as the girl pointed out getting onboard. The seating faced forward, unlike the traditional, military-style benches on the SHIELD jet. Steve picked a chair near the back, not bothering with the seat belts. He typically stood on a plane, but he wasn't sure how their pilot would feel about that. He'd learned in the forties that pilots were particular and if they wanted things a certain way, it was best that they got what they wanted.

The girl with the white streak in her hair took the seat beside him and flashed a friendly smile. As he returned it, she reached out a gloved hand, "I'm Rogue."

Steve took her hand, debating as he shook it delicately. His identity was not something he wanted spread around, but these people had seen him without his mask. Between that and the psychic that led them, Steve thought it might be wasted effort, "I'm Captain America, but you can call me Steve."

"It's lovely to meet you, Steve."

She had a thick southern twang that made Steve think of Georgia or one of the Carolinas. He'd never spent much time in the south, but he had men in his regiment from that area. They were always polite and well mannered, just never someone he wanted to make angry. The polite words didn't fade with rage, they just became pointed and underhanded.

Rogue tucked her hair behind her ear as the other mutants got strapped in. The jet hummed to life and Rogue grabbed the harness at her shoulders.

"Don't like flying?" Steve asked and slipped his shield off his arm. He balanced it on the floor in front of him, holding it in place with one palm.

Her smile thinned when she glanced at him, "It's not my favorite thing. Don't you want to strap in?"

"The straps slow me down."

"That's the idea, sugah."

Steve smirked and shook his head, "No, I mean, if I need to bail or we get attacked. They slow me down."

Her thin brows raised, but she didn't comment. The tall kid with bright blue eyes helped the professor into the copilot chair beside the borrowed SHIELD pilot. Apparently, Storm and Cyclops were the only ones trained to fly the jet, but the trade off was that they were also the foremost experts on Magneto. Fury had offered the pilot without a second thought. Steve tried to see who it was, since he knew most of the crew by now, but in the standard SHIELD gear and a helmet with a reflective visor, Steve couldn't tell.

After the kid got Xavier's chair latched down behind some cargo netting, he took the seat in front of Rogue. They shared shy smiles that reminded Steve of high school, and then he looked over at Steve.

"It's an honor to meet you, I'm Bobby. The grumpy one," he pointed up at Wolverine, who was occupying a chair near the front, "Is Logan."

The stocky, little man didn't glance up from changing the flint in his lighter.

Leaning as far as the shoulder straps would allow, Bobby had to raise his voice over the roar of the engines heating up, "Listen, sorry about what happened back there, I know the professor just wants to help. He's a good man."

Steve believed him, but Annika was still very young and barely settled in her life with them. Even if the professor was well intentioned, Steve wasn't comfortable with sending her off to boarding school. He knew Tony would nix the idea faster than the Hulk could fly into a fit of rage.

The jet lifted into the air vertically and the helicarrier shrank beneath them. When the thrusters kicked in, they shot west and the cabin noise died down. Steve could tell the acceleration was extreme, but the, what did Tony always call it, g-force applied to the occupants was minimal. Once they were up to speed, he could barely tell they were moving.

Rogue picked up the conversation where Bobby left it, "We're all sorry about what happened. A lot of parents reject their own flesh and blood when they find out they're mutants. Xavier's school is full of runaways, kids that have nowhere to go because no one understands them."

"You thought Tony and I would do the same," Steve filled in. Considering the sympathetic tone that suggested she'd lived the experience, Steve took a breath to stay calm, "Miss-"

"Rogue."

"Rogue, I don't think there's anything Annika can do that Tony and I can't handle. We're not exactly run-of-the-mill folks."

"Then y'all are better than most, darlin'," she drawled.

Pocketing the lighter, Logan wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air. He took the cigar out of his mouth and sniffed again, rotating in his chair to see Steve. His suggestive sneer made Steve's face heat, "You get lucky before take-off?"

Steve blushed scarlet and pulled his mask down over his embarrassment. Tony had cleaned the wet come off his uniform with his mouth, but the smell of sex always lingered. Managing not to stutter, Steve said, "That's none of your business."

Wolverine laughed, "Perks of marriage, even if you're both dudes. Do you always turn that red, or is it part of the uniform?"

"Logan, leave him alone," Rogue chided, though it did little to stop him.

"So, who takes it?"

"Logan!"

When Steve couldn't even look him in the eye anymore, Wolverine flashed a feral, toothy grin, "I change my mind, I'd rather have this guy than Scott. He's easier to tease."

Steve prayed for a short flight.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The school was impressive. It looked like an Ivy League college from above, the campus old and beautiful and well maintained. Steve was so busy looking at the stone masonry that he drew back from the window in surprise when they went underground. Layers of metal and concrete passed by as the pilot cautiously lowered them into the landing bay. Xavier guided him with quiet words, informing him of the depth of the bay and the side clearance. The tunnel widened to what looked like a combined aircraft hanger/garage. Cars and motorcycles were parked in even rows along the south wall, a pair of double doors set into the wall beside them.

As they touched down, Xavier looked at the pilot and said, "Now, if you would take off that helmet, Agent Barton, we can stop pretending you're someone else."

Steve got up, holding his shield by the edge, "Clint?"

The archer sighed and lifted the helmet off his head. His short, spiky hair was flat after the long flight, "Pretty sure you knew from the time I boarded, professor. You could've said something earlier."

"You had your reasons so I let you have your illusion, but you can tell the director his attempts to replicate Erik's helmet were unsuccessful," Xavier retuned with a slight curve to his mouth.

"And because the helmet was hotter than hell," Wolverine added as he stood and stretched. "Welcome to Passive Aggressive 101 with Professor X."

Xavier chuckled as Clint hit the toggle to open the back hatch. The archer was at the ramp before it had finished descending. He grabbed a black, rectangular case from a wall compartment and stepped out the hatch. Steve followed him. While everyone deboarded, Steve caught Clint's arm and pulled him off toward the line of vehicles. The garage bay had a massive arched ceiling, so no matter where they went their voices would carry. Steve kept that in mind.

He talked quietly, but firmly, "Fury didn't send you, did he?"

Barton pulled out of Steve's grasp and slicked his sweaty hair off his forehead. It stayed curled up like he'd used gel on it. His sharp eyes flicked over to the mutants, "No, I thought you could use some backup. Look Cap, Fury's dealings with these people have been a roller coaster. We never really know what they're going to do."

"But they're friendlies," Steve said uncertainly. Most of what Steve knew about the X-Men came from Tony hacking into Fury's files. Everything Tony shared with him suggested that these were the good guys. They fought to keep innocent people safe, and that made them okay in Steve's book. "Does Fury trust them?"

"Fury doesn't trust anyone."

Steve should've seen that coming. Rephrasing, he asked again, "Does Fury think they're trying to help us?"

"Yes," Clint answered eventually. "He has a lot of respect for Xavier and a huge interest in the school, but they'll do anything to protect their own."

"So will we," Steve deadpanned.

While Steve was upset with the way the X-Men handled Annika's mutation, he was just as irritated by SHIELD. At least Xavier wanted to teach her how to use her abilities because she could hurt someone unintentionally if she lost control. Fury's only interest in teaching her how to utilize her power was so she could be an agent one day. Steve chose this life, the life of a hero, and Tony stepped up to answer the call. It didn't mean their child had to do the same. As far as Steve was concerned, she could be whatever she wanted.

Clint unzipped the top of the flight suit, revealing his Hawkeye gear underneath, "I'm already here so you might as well let me watch your back."

By the plane, Xavier, Bobby and Rogue were waiting for them. Wolverine was gone, giving Steve the feeling that he did things on his own timetable. Steve wanted to wrap this up. Slotting his shield over his arm, he pointed at Clint. "Keep your mouth shut. I don't know what your problem is with mutants, but we could use allies, not more enemies. Clear?"

The archer lifted his chin, an argument hovering in his eyes, but he nodded, "Clear, Cap."

Clint spoke as he turned to go, "Wait a minute, about earlier... I didn't mean..."

"Leave it. We'll talk later," Steve said and stalked toward the waiting mutants. He heard Clint following him.

They moved to the other side of the bay after they'd rejoined the group. An elevator with rounded, silver doors opened for them without anyone touching a call button. It was almost as big as Tony's freight elevator, allowing them all to fit inside relatively comfortably. Steve did have his elbow in Clint's side and the archer had to hold his bow case against his chest so he wasn't hitting anyone with it. Rogue and Iceman weren't bothered by the closeness, using it to their advantage to wind their hands together discretely.

On the main floor, the young couple broke off at Xavier's urging. They disappeared up a flight of wood paneled stairs. When they were almost out of sight, Rogue laughed and broke out into a run, Bobby on her heels. It reminded Steve how young they were.

"They are young, perhaps too young to be on the X-Men, but we lost an important team member and they wanted to help," Xavier answered Steve's questioning thought.

Clint provided the name, "Jean Grey. Fury was sorry to hear about her death."

"Your director was sorry to lose a potential agent, he didn't know Jean," the professor's retort lacked venom. It was tired, regretful. Steve knew the tone, he'd used it himself more than once. Xavier felt responsible for her death.

Thinking of Bucky, Steve glanced into a classroom as they passed by. The desks were empty, but the writing on the chalkboard was some fairly complex chemistry. Tony or Banner would probably think it was beginner's stuff. The setup was nice, Steve noticed. There was a small collection of desks clustered in the brightly lit space, giving the students a higher chance of individual attention.

"We're officially a boarding school," Xavier mentioned, slowing his mechanical chair so Steve could get a longer look in the classroom. "But a girl as young as yours should be home at night. I know your husband has been searching for an appropriate school for Annika, perhaps you could give me another chance to explain our benefits?"

Clint opened his mouth and Steve shot him a look.

"I'm sure it's nice, professor, but-"

"Please, let's dispense with the formalities. Call me Charles."

"Charles, then. We want what's best for Annika, she didn't have an easy time her first few years and we want her to know that we're here for her. Sending her away to school doesn't send a good message to an insecure five-year-old," Steve said, walking beside Xavier as he continued down the corridor.

They passed other classrooms, spaces there were clearly converted from other purposes. One was a large, airy solar with glass walls, another a library with the smallest grouping of desks Steve had seen so far. The plaque beside the door read C. Xavier, Principal. Steve was impressed that he personally taught classes on top of running the school.

"You're absolutely right. I don't think boarding school is a viable option at her age. Our dorms are available to the children that don't have a welcoming family to go home to," Xavier waved his hand, "And I know we're not a short drive away, but I believe we could help your daughter understand her power. The choice is up to you, of course."

Steve nodded, aware that the psychic was gleaning his concerns from his mind. Ever since the conflict on the helicarrier, the thought that someone would take Annika from them circled his head. They would fight it, but the truth was that Steve didn't know if he could teach her how to reign in her abilities. He understood control considering how careful he had to be with his strength, but accessing other parts of the brain to manipulate the surroundings was completely outside his knowledge base.

Tony could teach her science and math, but Steve didn't think he knew the best way to approach technokenisis either. What Tony didn't know, he learned. The genius taught himself Japanese two days before a conference he was attending in Kyoto, so Steve knew he'd find a way. No matter what it took, they weren't going to let her go.

"I am not asking you to release her into our care, Captain, only to consider us in your search for a school," Xavier mentioned softly.

Steve nodded, "And you knew convincing me will be easier than convincing Tony. That's why I'm here, isn't it? That's why you asked me to come."

"You volunteered," Clint mentioned. The crease in his brow smoothed as realization dawned on his face. He looked down at Xavier, "Oh, you are good. We thought your abilities were limited to reading minds, but you can push stuff into them too."

"I merely extended an invitation. I doubt I could force your Captain into doing anything, he's extremely strong-willed."

A group of four kids ran by them, a preteen girl with short, black hair chasing them with multi-colored flecks of energy sparking off her fingers. She froze the moment she saw the professor, her eyes widening dramatically. The colorful sparks puttered out and she hid her hands behind her back.

"Jubilee," Xavier greeted, his tone doing the scolding.

The girl flinched and sidestepped them, scuttling away with a quick, "Sorry, professor!"

Two of the boys she'd been chasing peering around a wooden column. The one with a dusting of freckles and a wide gap in his teeth blurted, "You're Captain America!"

"Yes, I am," Steve gave him an automatic smile.

"Cool," the word was so long Steve thought it would never end. "Kurt saw you on TV. You're awesome."

When Jubilee called to them, they ran off, talking excitedly. The freckled boy claimed the right to be Captain America in their play and the taller boy yelled that he should get to be the captain because he was older. Steve didn't hear how the argument ended before they bolted outside.

As Steve walked past Clint, he pat his shoulder, "Don't worry, some child, somewhere wants to be Hawkeye."

"Hey, I have a loyal Facebook following, and they're all grown women."

Steve raised an eyebrow, not bothering to ask what 'Face Book' was. He'd heard Tony throw the term around before, but usually with a note of disdain. Whatever it was, Steve knew it was part of the vast virtual world of the internet, a place he preferred not to tread. "I'm sure Tasha loves that," Steve said.

Clint only shrugged

Xavier didn't comment on their verbal sparring. He continued down the corridor, going to a set of wooden panels that slid away to reveal another elevator, "Come with me, gentlemen. I'd like to show you Cerebro."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'm not a surgeon," Bruce repeated, possibly the twelfth time in an hour. "Or an anesthesiologist."

Tony rolled his eyes and motioned at the holographic display floating above his desk. Brilliant green and blue lines depicted rows of chemical names and dosages, "How hard can it be? All you have to do is follow the textbook instructions. You can handle that. It's all based around mass and age."

Bruce crossed his arms over his chest, "I know how anesthesia works, Tony. I also know that I could put you in a coma with the slightest misstep. I don't like this. We should bring in a medical team. An actual, honest to god medical team."

A stainless steel table Tony typically used for welding was set up beside them. It was empty and sterile, a tall toolbox on wheels at the head of the table. Instead of wrenches and screwdrivers, the drawers were filled with scalpels and clamps and suturing equipment. The new arc and smooth, black casing sat in a paper lined tray on top of the toolbox. The loose wiring coiled on the white tissue like entrails.

Though the graphene bonding process took some trial and error, Tony was certain it would fill the shoes of the gold-titanium very nicely. His initial calculations were correct, the new suit would be ultra light, a streamline version of Iron Man. The material didn't take well to paint, so the suit would also be black. Tony wasn't sure how he felt about that. Gold and red were his signature colors.

"We're not bringing in a surgical team. You've got the brains, Banner. Suck it up and let's do this," Tony said sharply. As Bruce shook his head and retreated to the center of the workshop, Tony tapped his knuckles on the desk with a frown. "I trust you with this."

"Yeah, that's what worries me," Bruce mumbled.

Coming around the table, Tony continued, "You know the tech, no one else does. If something goes wrong, you're the only one who can fix it."

"What if..." Bruce pointed his folded glasses at the table, "What if I get too worked up and I lose control while you're under?"

"Banner..."

"What if... he comes out in the middle of surgery?"

"Seriously?"

"You'll bleed out, or he'll crush you, or-"

"Bruce," Tony raised his voice to cut through Banner's tirade. Putting a hand on either of the doctor's shoulders, Tony sought Bruce's nervous gaze. When their eyes caught, he said, "You're not going to lose control. You'll be fine. If you can deal with me awake, you're not going to Hulk out when I'm unconscious. I'll be quiet for once, you'll be able to think."

Bruce chuckled, the sound thin and forced, "True. And I won't have to deal with any screwdrivers jabbing my ribs."

"That's another plus." Smiling, Tony led the jittery doctor to their makeshift operating table. "But you can't leave me on the happy gas after you're done. I know you appreciate the quiet, but I have to make sure Annika gets lunch."

"Tony, after major surgery, I don't think-"

Jarvis interrupted them, making both men tilt their heads toward the ceiling, "Sir, Ms. Potts is here to see you."

Tony went rigid. After only a second of hesitation, he got in his office chair and rolled over to the desk. His fingers drummed on the glowing keyboard projected on the glass, "Keep her at the door and run a biometrics scan, looking for any anomaly in her physiology. There has to be a size-weight disrupt for-"

"Sir, she has already entered the tower using an override code. She's in the elevator now."

"Tony, what should-"

Tony got out of the chair so fast it rolled halfway across the workshop. Dummy tracked it with the ocular sensors built into the claw hand. When the chair bounced off the skeleton frame of a car, the robot arm trundled over to fetch it and push it back to the desk. Tony was at his suits before Dummy could get the seat to stop spinning.

"Annika should be in her room, I gave her a new book on particle physics so she'll be glued to her chalkboard. Go stay with her," Tony shot at Bruce as he grabbed the gauntlets off the MARK VII. He jammed his hand in the right glove, running the auxiliary power cable to the arc. "Try to avoid letting the big guy out to play. I don't want my house torn up for months."

Banner was barely through the door before Jarvis politely delivered the results of the scan, "Sir, her biometrics do not match my stored data package for Ms. Potts."

Tony finished hooking up the second gauntlet, feeling a rush of adrenalin when the repulsor whined with a building charge.

"She has reached the workshop door. Should I deny access?"

"No," Tony said and took aim at the entrance.

The soft click of the lock disengaging was a gunshot in the silence. Tony narrowed his eyes as the door swung open. Her belly preceded her into the room, round and hugely pregnant. Pepper gasped when she saw the glowing port of the repulsor, "Tony! It's only me."

Tony lowered his hand a fraction of an inch, studying the woman in front of him. Her strawberry blonde hair was cut in a bob, the ends brushing the edges of her jaw, and her clothes were extremely casual. Despite the skinny-leg jeans and plain maternity top, this Pepper felt more real to him than Mystique could ever hope to mimic.

He still wanted to be safe, "Prove it."

"Really? I think that the fake me wouldn't put on twenty pounds of baby weight just to trick you," Pepper waddled into the shop, holding her back like she was fighting a chronic ache, "Dummy, would you bring me that chair?" As the robot changed directions, dragging the rolling chair behind it, Pepper said, "I could give you a detailed work history, but I bet she knows all that."

"It has to be something personal."

The redhead sank into the cushioned seat with a relieved sigh, "Okay. I once found you wearing a woman's bra after one of your parties. It was lacy and you'd stuffed a sock in one cup. It was a good look on you. Or there was that other time in Vegas that you left the hotel room na-"

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, Pepper."

"Well," she pursed her lips, "at least I caught up to you before you got to the elevator."

Tony didn't want to think about Vegas. There were a lot of sorry stories attached to Vegas and he'd probably being paying their power bill since the late eighties with as much money as he'd lost there. The city was lucky he liked to gamble drunk or he could be a real hazard to their profitability. Card counting was child's play.

Convinced, Tony removed the cables from his chest, "You're pregnant."

"Don't worry, it's not yours," Pepper said with a sad smile and tucked some hair behind her ear. "So, speaking of children, please tell the Enquirer is just lying like always and you haven't adopted a child from Spain or France or wherever."

"Russia," Tony filled in, smirking at her shocked look.

"Wh- what?"

"I know."

Pepper sat up and braced one hand low on her belly, the movement automatic to deal with the weight shift, "Anthony Stark, you stop lying to me. Did you really?"

Tony suddenly realized that he hadn't seen her in over a year. If the last contact they had was the day she left, it had been almost a year and a half. For the months between Pepper and Steve, Tony was too upset to consider tracking her down. But after that, he could've found her and he didn't. He let one of the few people who mattered to him walk out of his life. The fact hit him hard.

"I missed you," he said abruptly, meaning every word.

The trace of sadness she'd carried in the room with her came back, centering in her clear, bright eyes. "You had her," she made it sound accusatory and Tony heard what she really meant, 'How could you believe that she was me?'

Tony shucked the gauntlets and let them clang on the nearest surface, "No, she wasn't you. I knew something was wrong, but I thought it was us. I thought it was the breakup making you-"

"I'm not staying."

Tony dropped into silence, his chest tightening at her statement. He didn't need her to explain, he could see her meaning in the moisture gathering in her eyes. Just being in his presence hurt her.

Pepper struggled out of the chair. When Tony rushed to help her, she waved him away, "I just came to make sure you were alright. There was nothing on the news, no word from any of the hospitals..."

"I'm fine," he responded instinctually, but her gaze went to the bandages at his shoulder and she gave him the look he hated. The Look, where her lips tightened and her eyes threatened bodily harm if he didn't tell the truth. Tony groaned, "I'm a little banged up, but I've had worse. Cut me some slack, Pepper. I have too much to do to let a couple of bruises stop me."

"You should get some rest."

"Well, you sort of lost the right to demand that," Tony regretted the words the moment they hit the air. Why couldn't he have one conversation where he wasn't flippant and dismissive? He really didn't have a clue.

Hurt crossed Pepper's petite features. She put her hand at the small of her back to deal with real pain as if it would take some of the sting out of Tony's statement too.

"Pepper…"

"No, you're right. I should go," she said and turned her face. Even if there were no tears that Tony could see, he could hear the tightness in her voice. "I'm glad you're alright. Stay safe."

Tony hesitated as she waddled in the direction of the door. No scientific or mechanical problem ever stumped him. If he didn't know the answers, which was extremely rare, he could find them in minutes. People were different. Anyone who thought thermodynamics were hard to comprehend had never dealt with a woman like Pepper Potts.

The one thing he was sure of was that he couldn't let her leave on bad terms. Tony jolted forward like a sprinter at the starting shot, cutting between Pepper and the door, "Wait, wait!"

Pulling back at his sudden appearance, Pepper blinked and wiped at her eyes with a balled up tissue from her pocket, "Move, Tony. Please."

"Not until you help me understand why you're acting like I'm the one who left you. You walked out, Pepp. You left me and we were doing fine."

"You love him," she murmured, the emotion so raw her words bled. "That's why I left. You love him. I could see it happening- I…" A tear escaped and rolled to the end of her eyelashes. It clung to the pale lengths, brushed away by her tissue before it could fall.

Tony opened his mouth, his throat working over silence. There was nothing he could say. It was true. Tony was deeply in love with Steve and probably had been long before Pepper took action. He thought it was sad that she recognized the signs when he didn't even know his eyes lingered on Steve every time the soldier entered the room.

But there was another truth Pepper wasn't considering. He loved her too. It might not be the same kind of love it was when he kissed her the first time, but it was still there. She'd put up with his lost years and his startling transformation and even his flustered, ill-timed affections. She understood his eccentricities and loved him for who he was and not the money in his bank accounts. Tony couldn't forget all that.

"I was with you," Tony pointed out and stepped closer. "You could've ignored what was going on and I would've stayed. I didn't recognize what was happening between Steve and me until after you left. Some would say, extrapolating through probability here, that I might've never noticed if you hadn't changed the course of our lives."

Pepper sniffed and shook the soiled tissue at him, "Don't you dare make this into a math equation. If you'd stayed, you would've been miserable. I loved you enough to let you go. Now, if you'd return the favor…" She motioned at the door.

Tony watched the tissue with undisguised revulsion. If it got any closer to him, he might dodge out of the way for the sake of self-preservation. He didn't have any idea how long the wadded up tissue lived in her pocket, or possibly even her purse before that. Not taking his eyes off of it, Tony leaned to the side to pick up a brushed steel trashcan. He thrust the cylinder at her and wiggled it. Her lethal glare made him set it back down.

"Pepper, lets skip all the back and forth and blame throwing and get to the framework of this… are you sure you don't want to throw that away? No? Okay…" Tony winced when she crossed her arms over her chest. He continued, "I don't want you to go. I mean, you can go. Today. It's not like I'm going to lock you in the tower, but I don't want you to cut me off. I appreciate that you aimed me at Steve, I know that wasn't easy, and I'm glad you saw what I didn't. I just… don't want to lose you again."

Pepper's expression slowly unwound from guarded to surprised. Her eyebrows crawled up her forehead, "What? No witty follow up? Just an honest, open statement?"

Tony shrugged.

"What has he done to you? Was there a trick to training you that I missed? Should I have been rewarding you with scotch when you did something good?"

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him," Tony relaxed as the tension between them finally broke. "But I think I'd remember if he used one of those dog clickers before he handed me scotch."

"It has to be scotch or sex, those are the only two things that catch your attention," Pepper smiled. It was still sad, but the traces of warmth gave Tony hope.

They looked at each other for a long moment before Pepper leaned awkwardly to kiss his cheek. Her big belly pressed softly against Tony's abdomen and one of his arms. The child moved at his touch and something that felt suspiciously like a heel pushed on him. Tony dropped his eyes, his hand coming up to rest on Pepper's stomach.

"He could've been yours," Pepper whispered and covered his hand with hers.

The rest went unsaid. It was the argument they had a million times. Tony didn't want kids, but Pepper was ready for one. There was so much to consider when raising a child, so much mess. It involved a change in lifestyle, in sleeping habits, in everything about Tony's day-to-day existence, so he remained adamant with Pepper through the entire relationship.

He hadn't planned on Annika. Every one of Tony's concerns came true, having her in the tower had changed everything, but she made it all worthwhile. She lit up Tony's world in ways he never imagined.

Clearing his throat, Tony asked, "Who does he belong to? Does this guy treat you well?"

"That is classified information because I do NOT need him getting a visit from you."

"Aw, come on-"

"All you need to know is that he's very nice and he comes home when he says he will." There was an undeniable bite to her voice that made Tony flinch and glance at his sneakers. Pepper stroked a thumb over his cheekbone and he slowly raised his eyes. Up close, Tony could count her freckles, the pattern so familiar to him, "But, maybe when I'm ready, we can all get together and have dinner. Alright?"

"Square deal," Tony said, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

Pepper lifted her hand and gave his face a light tap, "Good. Now get back to whatever you-" she froze, her wide eyes going to the door.

Tony turned, finding Annika peering cautiously through the doorframe. Chalk dust powdered her hands and dress. She left ghostly fingerprints on the door when she bolted from the safety of the frame to the safety of Tony's legs. Tony stroked her hair as she scrutinized Pepper from around one of his thighs.

"This is Annika. I'm sorry you two haven't been properly introduced before," Tony explained, directing his next sentence at his daughter, "Annika, this is the real Pepper, not the blue woman who changes shape. Say hello."

"Hi," the dark-haired girl squeaked. It was the best Tony was going to get until she trusted Pepper more.

"Sorry, she's a little antisoc- Pepper?"

Pepper closed her mouth and somehow managed to compose herself, "You weren't kidding… about Russia?"

"No, I wasn't kidding about Russia." Suddenly realizing that there was someone missing, Tony's stomach did a flip, "Annika, where's Dr. Banner? Did you tell him you were leaving?"

At her innocent 'me? Do something wrong?' expression, Tony went out into the hall. The last thing he needed was the Hulk raging around his multi-million dollar home.

"Jarvis, would you kindly inform the doctor that Annika is fine and he fails at babysitting?" Tony said as he hurried through the house. He wondered if any of the Avengers were capable of watching Annika without losing her. They could save the world, avenge the world, but they couldn't keep tabs on a five-year-old. Typical.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Oh, Pepper. I have Tony Pepper feels, not going to lie. I think they're cute together, in a dysfunctional, argumentative way. So I had to throw some of that in.

From this point on, there be violence. Lots and lots of violence.


	8. Black Death

A/N: I am a horrible human being for making all of you wait this long. I'm sorry. RL has gotten in the way of this story and I apologize for the delay.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Her workspace was large, and yet constrictive. She could feel the steel maw of control closing around her with each minute she spent bent over her test tubes. It was a familiar feeling, one she encountered the first moment she set foot in the building in Moscow. Then, it had been at gunpoint, but she'd walked willingly into this new cage and she wasn't planning on letting someone close the door behind her.

Raisa Golovin considered herself to be extremely intelligent. She knew when she was being used just the same as she knew when the subatomic layers of a gene weren't going to line up properly. Magneto spouted beautiful promises the way a smoker spewed toxins. It was impossible not to breathe in since his charisma gave his words the glossy shine of truth. The longer she was near him, the more she noticed the shine flaking away to reveal the tar underneath.

Raisa sat up, her gold-green eyes flicking over the automated factory clicking and hissing around her. The moving belts held rows upon rows of vials, each filling with a dose of clear blue fluid as they traveled from one station to the next. At the end of the belt, two mutants unloaded the crates and fitted the finished product into custom cut packing foam. The foam went into white boxes with a blue logo printed on the side, 'Manhattan's Answer to Medicine' stamped beneath the emblem.

There was nothing else for her to do. The serum was as stable as she could make it with her current equipment. The technology left a lot to be desired, but Magneto and his Brotherhood were trying to keep their heads down. High-end equipment was harder to come by without breaking into a guarded facility, and that would certainly put them on SHIELD's radar.

Though her work was done, Magneto had not delivered her daughter. Raisa knew part of the delay was due to Annika's adopted family, it was no simple task to peal a child away from superheroes. The Captain and Stark were more protective than she anticipated. When she'd signed her little girl into the care of a notorious lush, she assumed it would be simple to fetch her back from him.

The mutants packing the crates looked up as she left her desk. She walked by. They were there to keep tabs on her activities, had been since day one. Raisa let Erik think he was in control here, she let them watch her and report every movement to him like good minions. She let them think her leash was tight.

Raisa was no one's pet. If Magneto proved to be untrustworthy, she would show him how sharp her claws were. The mutant would wear her scars for the rest of his days.

Her heels rang on the metal floor as she left the lab. Cool air hit her face, smelling of salt and exhaust. Some would consider it cold. Her breath misted in front of her mouth, drifting up around her head. In her homeland, this would be considered summer. On the deck of Magneto's floating fortress, newly recruited mutants were bundled to their noses. Disdain dripped from Raisa's eyes.

"Pathetic," she muttered and left the covered doorway.

The cargo freighter was spotted with rust, its paint crackled with age. The decks that were normally covered with rows of mutli-colored shipping containers were barren. They stretched out like a disused tarmac, the expanse broken only by a duel-rotor helicopter and the gathering insects of Magneto's fledgling army.

They came from all over, brought in by Mystique and Azazel from their midnight tryout sessions in abandoned buildings and empty lots. Of the hundreds of abilities Raisa had seen over the past few days, only a handful impressed her. Magneto thought his collection of drabble would survive against Fury's hand-selected heroes, and for that Raisa pitied him.

She'd seen what the Avengers were capable of, viewed the aftermath of their fight with her abominations. Head on combat was not Magneto's plan, but Raisa knew it would come to that and she didn't want to be anywhere close when it happened.

Out in the open ocean, it should've been quiet. Raisa stood at the edge of the deck and closed her eyes. The rush of water parting around the prow roared far below her, nearly lost in the chug of the engines. Broken conversations flit through the air like startled birds as the mutants milled on the deck. She only caught snatches of words, releasing them to the wind before she analyzed them.

Raisa missed the silence of home. Even more than that, she missed the gentle baritone of her husband's voice. Before the Black Widow came with her tools and her methods of persuasion, the deep tones of Yegor talking through his research were her music. It was the sound that filled her world.

Annika was all she had left of him, even if she was a stranger to Raisa. A stranger with Raisa's face, Raisa's mind. After Annika's birth, Raisa saw very little of her. Sometimes months would go by before the men that held her hostage would allow her to spend time with the girl. Whenever she saw her, the child was bigger, older. Raisa missed so much of her toddler years that Annika would sometimes peer at her as though she didn't recognize her mother. They were strangers related by blood.

Raisa refused to miss the rest of her life.

Exhaling a frustrated plume of mist, Raisa followed the ship's railing to center, and then broke off. The skeleton arms of cranes cast shadows across her path. She peered up at them before ducking into the lower levels. What used to be officer's quarters were now Magneto's conference rooms. None of the fresh recruits came here, only those the old man trusted.

Quicksilver stood on watch by the door. Eyes so pale blue they were almost white tracked her descent on the staircase. Magneto's son. Though no one seemed to bring it up, Raisa knew. Genetics were a bit of a hobby and she could spot Erik's brow line and squared jaw in the mutant before her. It was more difficult to see the family resemblance in the sister, but it was in the curvature of her ear and the shape of her eyes.

"He didn't call for you," Quicksilver told her sharply, crossing his arms over his chest.

Raisa didn't stop, "He'll see me anyway."

The room Magneto was set up in was no bigger than a shoebox, but considered a suite by ship standards. Framed maps of the ocean floor flanked the desk, the one depicting the Marianas Trench hung between a pair of utility cabinets. A pair of worn out goulashes leaned against the left cabinet, a captain's hat hanging off the door.

Raisa didn't ask about the captain. Magneto could've taken the ship from nuns for all Raisa cared, what mattered was that he was the means to an end if he held up his side of the bargain.

"News?" Raisa's lip twitched with the word.

Magneto sat reclined in the desk chair, his attention focused on a faded copy of Paradise Lost. The helmet sat on the desk in front of him, looking all the world like a dismembered head. Raisa's gaze strayed to it several times, her mind filling in the details. Yegor's head. Yegor's face. Blood dripping off the desk in coagulated streams. Raisa blinked and the image was gone. It was just a helmet, Erik's defense against Xavier.

Much like the helmet, he'd lined the exterior of the ship with some strange mix of metal after he stole it. Though Raisa didn't know the details of the alloy, she understood its purpose in blocking the professor's telepathy. It kept their floating lab hidden from anyone powerful enough to track them.

"Not the news you came here searching for. She is in Stark Tower with Banner and Stark himself. Her acquisition is not a viable option at this time," Erik said and turned the page of his book.

Putting her hands on her hips, Raisa growled, "Then your boasts are merely boasts. You are not more powerful than the Avengers, you're afraid of them. I can get her back myself."

Magneto closed his book and set it besides his helmet. The paper sleeve whispered on the surface of the desk as he slid it out of the way. "My dear girl, there is a phrase etched into history about awaking sleeping giants and filling them with terrible resolve. It is certainly something to consider when attacking a man such as Banner," the mutant told her and folded his hands on the desk. "Now, tell me about your progress."

"It is in production."

"Good, and the survival rate?"

Raisa lifted her head, "I've managed to increase the rate to over eighty percent with Rogers's blood, but I will not manage better without updated equipment. Many will die."

Magneto's scowl brought the creases at the corner of his mouth into sharp relief. He brought his hands up and rested his chin on the ridge of knuckles, staring at her with disapproval, "I expected more from you."

"A sculpture cannot create without clay. If you want refinement, I need the proper tools and more time," Raisa snapped, turning so fast her hair lashed around her.

At the door, Magneto's voice made her freeze, "Then I will need more time to acquire your child."

It was a simple statement, but Raisa heard the threat. The maw of Erik's trap was closing on her. Raisa looked at him over her shoulder, the tangle of black tresses obscuring part of her view. The corner of the mutant's mouth twisted up into a smirk. He thought he had her, but he was wrong.

Raisa was no one's pet.

"Use what time you need, but get me my equipment," she said and stepped into the hall.

On the deck, Raisa stared out at the endless ocean. Charcoal bands of clouds crawled at the horizon, smearing the boundary between sky and sea. With the wind at its back, the storm would reach the ship soon.

Raisa walked to the waiting helicopter and got inside. Flying was a self-taught skill, but her fingers flew over the controls as if they were familiar friends. The engines whined as they warmed up. Mutants came toward her from every corner of the deck, but only one got through the door before she could take off. Without looking from the instruments, Raisa lifted a pistol and shot him between the eyes. He crumpled on the floor. She shoved him out the door with her foot and urged the helicopter into the air. The deck shrank beneath her. There were many on the ship capable of bringing her out of the sky, but her risk rested firmly in the knowledge that Magneto wanted her alive.

She checked her altimeter before turning south. They would try to reclaim her at Stark Tower. She wasn't going to make it easy.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve found waiting tedious. He'd always been good at occupying himself, unlike his husband, but when he was waiting on word of an attack, it was difficult to be patient. Opposite Steve, Clint sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening a knife. Since it was the third time Clint had sharpened the same knife, the edge was honed so perfectly the assassin could shave with it. The archer had gotten up every twenty or thirty minutes to pace and stretch, occasionally aiming down the long hallway, but never releasing the arrow. The choices for Barton seemed to be pace, or maintain his weapons. Steve knew he'd be up again in a little while.

The rooms beneath the school were all chrome and white lights, bare and sterile. It reminded Steve of the helicarrier, but slightly less cramped. The ceilings were higher here. Behind the round vault door, Xavier's brain amplifier gave off white noise that made the rest of the hall seem oddly quiet. It even deadened the scrape of Clint's knife blade over his whetstone.

Steve didn't have a watch, but his internal clock said it had been almost four hours since the professor entered Cerebro. The sporadic reports Clint got from Natasha suggested that SHIELD wasn't fairing any better in their search. Steve hadn't gotten any news from Banner or Tony, but he wasn't surprised. Bruce never called, and his brilliant husband was undoubtedly neck deep in a project, so the phone was the last thing on his mind. He didn't worry about Tony forgetting Annika while he was working, Jarvis diligently reminded Tony to check on her every few hours and their little girl was in the workshop half the time anyway.

Clint sighed and slammed the knife in his boot sheath, "What's taking so long?"

"Thought you were used to sitting in a blind for hours on end, waiting for something to happen," Steve mentioned, though he wondered the same thing.

"That's different. At least then I have something to watch. This sucks."

Steve smirked as his brain immediately connected the phrase with Tony. The billionaire usually followed such a claim by 'Then it's a party', because he would never grow out of sex jokes. Steve resisted following in his footsteps, "You could've gone on that tour Bobby offered."

"Which one's- oh yeah, Iceman. Nah, he seemed more interested in hanging out with his girlfriend. He just came down here out of obligation."

"Obviously, but you still could've gone," Steve told him, turning his head at the muted ding of the elevator.

Logan sauntered into the hall and Steve had to suppress his groan. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Clint smirk, but it was gone before Steve could say something. His encounters with Wolverine had been fairly limited, so Steve was trying not to judge him too quickly. Until he opened his mouth, "Uncle Sam and Birdboy, you do know you don't have to hang out in front of Cerebro, right? Or is this how they do it at SHIELD?"

Logan hooked a thumb in a belt loop at his hip and fished a cigar out of his worn, black leather jacket. The dark end of the cigar suggested it had been lit and stubbed out before, the opposite end a bit ragged from being chewed. Sticking it in his mouth, the mutant dug out a lighter. The flame hovered at the ashy tip, Steve glancing down at it as the cigar caught and glowed red.

"We like to be prepared at SHIELD," Steve responded and pushed off the wall.

This mutant, Wolverine, rubbed him the wrong way. At first, he compared the abrasive attitude to Tony, but it didn't take Steve long to realize this man was nothing like Tony. If the two were in the same room for longer than a few minutes, Steve could see it turning into a snarky explosion.

When his nose caught the acrid smell of smoke, Steve said, "Would you put that out."

Wolverine took a drag, the tip flaring red, and blew the smoke out to the side, "Not your base, not your rules."

"I'm asking politely, put it out."

"You're not asking," the mutant said flatly. "You're telling and I don't take orders from you."

Steve straightened so he towered over the smaller man. He didn't mean it as a threat, but his patience was spread to transparency and smoking inside a school was not acceptable, even if it was in the underground facility beneath the school. Steve crowded his space, "Put it out."

"Back off, kid," Logan snarled as he approached

Logan had to tilt his head to look him in the eye. Small as he was, he certainly had a lot of moxie. No, Tony told him that word was old-fashioned. Steve wracked his vocabulary for the correct expression, thinking the modern terminology had something to do with 'having balls'. Steve liked moxie better. It wasn't so crude.

"Kid?" Steve echoed, his grip tightening on his shield. The action rippled through the muscle of his arm and shoulder, making everything cord under the uniform.

Clint tensed and Logan grinned, "Yeah. Kid. The two of you look like you left daycare to be here. What grade are you in?"

"Let me assure you that I'm not a child and I have earned a higher level of respect than that," Steve said, keeping his voice level but stern. Yelling only made things worse, he'd learned that before he'd ever even heard of the Research and Science Division of the US army. "You talk awful big for such a little guy. Used to know somebody a lot like you, except he had principles."

"Didn't think Stark had any principles, isn't that why he's in the papers so often without his clothes?"

The tendon in Steve's jaw flexed, "You'd better close your mouth or I'm going to do it for you."

"I'd really like to see you try, bub," the first hit of smoke came out with his words, curling into Steve's face.

Clint's hand closed over his bow, his sniper's eyes pinned to Logan even as he spoke to Steve, "You don't want to fight him, Cap." Logan chuckled, but Clint cut him off before he could get a word out, "I wouldn't laugh, because you don't want to fight him either. I think you should both simmer down."

Wolverine's sidelong look filled with something that bordered excitement and Steve lifted his shield. Steve knew the type, the one that loved a good fight. There was no chance Logan was going to back down and, though Steve hated to rise to bait of any kind, he knew he couldn't show weakness to this man. Logan was sizing him up.

Steve waved Wolverine's exhale away from his nose, "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" Logan snorted, sticking the cigar in the corner of his lips before he thumbed his nose. "You. You and Stark thinking you know better than us how to deal with-"

"Our child? She's ours, and yes, we actually do know what's best for her."

"And how long is she going to be yours, huh? First time that kid loses control, really loses control and destroys half of your skyscraper, you're not going to look at her like the adorable little orphan girl. You'll toss her out and we'll have to come in and do cleanup," Logan stepped in close to say it, so close Steve could feel the heat coming off the burning tip of his cigar.

Steve's body thrummed with anger, his free hand trembling slightly from the effort to keep it still.

Clint got to his feet, "Guys, stop."

"Stay out of it," Wolverine snarled, "Come on, Uncle Sam. You want to hit me, go ahead, but you know I'm right."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh yeah? How many times have you been chased out of a bar or restaurant because people figured out you were a mutant? That kid is nothing like you, she should be in Xavier's school. Stark's got enough humanitarian projects going on to gloss over his whorish past, he doesn't need-"

Steve grabbed Wolverine's jacket and shirt with one hand and hoisted him over his head, thinking the mutant was heavier than he looked. His eyes formed ice chips as he glared at Logan, but he kept himself in check. Instead of slamming him into the floor like he wanted, Steve bit out his final warning, "Shut up."

One of Wolverine's hands went to Steve's wrist. His grip was iron, pressing bruises into the bone. The other hand he held in a fist in front of Steve's throat. Steve didn't flinch, even as blades slipped through the skin of Logan's knuckles and brushed threateningly against his Adam's apple.

"What? Did I hit a nerve?" Wolverine asked, his smirk snide. "I've got a joke for you. Tony Stark walks into a bar-"

The door to Cerebro hissed open, a voice cutting through the air and the red haze of rage in Steve's mind, "Enough."

They both jerked, but Steve doubted it was from the shout. The word in his head was almost a physical blow, leaving his ears ringing and his frontal lobe pounding. Steve set Logan on his feet and turned as Xavier maneuvered his powered wheelchair out into the hall.

"We don't have time for these spats. You will stay out of their business, Logan," Xavier ordered firmly. The dark-haired mutant growled, but swallowed whatever he planned on saying when the professor continued, "I've tracked Magneto's daughter to a quarry in the southern part of Pennsylvania. From what I can gather, I believe she is recruiting others to the Brotherhood. I've sent the coordinates to the jet and alerted Bobby and Marie, they'll meet you in the hangar."

"How many should we expect?" Steve asked as Clint and Logan started for the elevator.

Xavier shook his head, "Right now, there are eighteen of them, but the number is growing. I'll give you a better idea when you're close."

"Got it, thank you, professor," Steve turned, his mind flipping to strategy. He started to order, "Clint, get on the comm-"

"Already on it," the archer had his phone in hand, dialing as he walked. "But if they're still out over the Atlantic, we're definitely going to get there first."

"What, you worried?" Logan verbally jabbed at Clint, "Think we can't handle 'em alone?"

"You sit back and take a nap, the Captain and I will be done with this in ten minutes. The flight will take longer," Clint tossed back, earning a chuckle from the burly mutant.

"Might take you up on that."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Time to focus."

They piled into the elevator and Logan dropped his cigar and put it out under his boot. Steve furrowed his brow at the sudden change of heart. When Wolverine didn't acknowledge his curious look, Steve decided to take it at face value.

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They landed a half a mile from the coordinates Xavier provided, but they could see the dusky glow on the horizon from the facility's floodlights. The thick pines twisted in the exhaust of the jet's engines and Steve worried about their position being compromised early in the mission. The hills provided enough cover and the Blackbird was a stealth jet, but battling with mutants made everything uncertain. It only took one with excellent senses to hear them land.

As Clint flicked the switches to kill the jet, Steve slotted his shield onto his arm, "Clint, find a vantage point and wait for my signal. The rest of you are with me."

Bobby and Rogue moved like they were going to follow him, but Logan held an arm out to stop them, "Without Scott, the team is mine. You don't give orders here, bub."

Steve turned at the ramp, trying to keep his irritation in check. He knew this was going to be a problem, but he hadn't come up with any solutions during the flight. There was a legitimate argument hiding behind Logan's haughtiness. The X-Men were not his to command. Steve knew that there couldn't be two commanders on the field either, it led to confused troops and missed opportunity. Arguing commanders got troops killed.

Clint flipped open his case and took out the quiver first, fitting it into the specially designed cradle on his back. Hands flashing over the equipment, he got the bow and unfolded it with a quick jerk. Armed, the archer came to the ramp. Steve stepped aside to let him pass and Hawkeye vanished into the night silently, leaving Steve to the mutants.

Rogue tucked the white strands of hair behind her ear, "Logan, we need to get moving."

"I'm responsible for them, clear?" Logan didn't ask so much as warn, his brows shading his animalistic eyes. The young X-Men glanced at him nervously.

Not wanting a confrontation here, Steve finally nodded. "Alright. Fine. We need to move, so give the order," he said.

Wolverine walked past him and down the ramp and Rogue rolled her eyes, "Men… You all have too much testosterone for your own good, sugah. How 'bout I take charge next time?"

"I'm in," Bobby responded, following it with a faint blush as he caught Steve's gaze on him.

By the time they made it outside, Logan was a shrinking shape in the darkness. It didn't seem to Steve like it was the most effective leadership tactic to leave his team members behind. Even if he was the kind of general to lead the troops into battle, he hadn't given them any kind of direction.

Wishing for his beloved, snarky air support, Steve did his best to survey the area from the ground. From what Steve learned on the ride over, the hills were unsettled. The quarry was the only thing in the area, the rest made up of stout trees and scrub brush. A road cut east to west through the wilderness, an exposed area Steve wanted to avoid.

Steve's feet found their way instinctually over the rocky terrain, but he could hear the young couple struggling behind him. Maintaining a slow pace so he wouldn't lose them, he kept every sense open and alert. His shield led the way, covering his body from nose to stomach. Only his eyes showed over the top edge.

"I'm in position," Clint reported quietly in his ear. "There are a lot of people down here, Captain. There's- wait… wait, I see Magneto. He's here."

Steve picked up his pace. The one thing he knew about Logan was that his bones were reinforced with metal. Even if he was a pompous jerk, Steve couldn't let him walk into that. He gave Clint his orders and stretched into a lope, "Stay in position until I give the command. We'll need the others on this."

"Roger that, Rogers."

"Stop doing that," Steve said for possibly the hundredth time. Clint always worked it in at somewhere during a mission, so there wasn't much point in chiding him.

Leaping nimbly over an outcropping of rock, Steve slid in dirt on the other side. It stirred up the rich scent of decomposing leaves. His eyes were good in the dark, but it was a lot easier to maneuver the closer he got to the facility. The bright glow of the floodlights slanted through the trees.

Steve kept to the shadows, ducking behind whatever foliage he could as he got to the guillotined edge of the forest. It ended in a sharp drop where the machines had cut deep into the hill, a few of the trees clinging to the remaining ground with exposed roots. A massive stretch of raw, bare rock spread out from the remains of forest, like a festering wound in the earth. Dozens of massive trucks and dusty, yellow construction vehicles speckled the quarry. Stadium lighting hooked up to generators ringed the space at regular intervals.

In the middle of it all was a group of mutants. Steve's initial estimate came in at thirty-five, but they were clustered together in a tight circle. Two mutants fought in the center of the circle while Magneto and Scarlet Witch appraised them. The jeering from the crowd was enough to hide any sound of the jet's approach, for which Steve was grateful.

He scanned the harsh white rock from the tree line to the crowd, but didn't see Wolverine anywhere. Staying crouched, he moved along the broken edge of forest. He found Logan a few yards to the east, taking cover behind a slanted pine. The mutant's eyes flicked to him, but he made no move otherwise.

Steve took a knee beside him, talking low, "Magneto-"

"Yeah, got that."

"You got a plan?"

Wolverine extended his claws as though it served as his answer.

"That's not a plan," Steve deadpanned, wondering if he was the only one in this business who thought beyond 'attack and see what happens'. "The others are in route; we should lay low until they get here."

"Thought the two of you were going to take care of this in ten minutes and I was going to nap," Logan's quip came with a smile that wasn't as condescending as the others Steve had seen.

The sharp crack of a breaking twig caught Steve's attention and his body tensed. He looked over to catch the end of Bobby's wince. The kid gave him a sheepish shrug and mouthed, 'Sorry'. Frozen in place, Rogue waited a breath to scurry the last few feet to their hiding place. She climbed on the exposed roots of the lopsided pine, getting up on her toes to see.

"They're still in training," Logan said apologetically.

Shaking his head, Steve flicked his eyes back to the fight in the quarry. The slender mutant on the right side of the makeshift battle arena clapped its hands together and a visible shockwave slammed into the opponent. The combatant flew into the wall of bodies, knocking them to the ground.

A second later, the boom reached the tree line. It shook everything, rattling leaves and rocks. Logan growled and ducked his head at the sound, his face twisted in pain. Loose pine needles pin wheeled out of the upper branches and drifted around them. It left Steve's ears ringing.

Bobby slowly pulled his hands away from his ears, "That can't be-"

The ground beneath them shifted, the only warning they had before the pine in front of them snapped free. A deep groan went out from the base as it picked up speed. Rogue tumbled against the trunk, the fan of roots shoving her forward.

"Marie!" Bobby shouted, extending his hands.

An ice storm exploded from his fingers. The point of separation crusted with permafrost, blending the lines between tree and earth, but the forward momentum was too much to stop. Rogue pushed herself up. She reached and Wolverine lunged. His fingers closed on empty air. Following her scream, Wolverine leaped off the edge.

"Position compromised. Move in, fire at will," Steve shouted and jumped after them.

It was a longer drop than he thought, a few stories at least. Ahead of him, he saw Logan grab the girl and jump off the tree. It crashed into the bottom of the quarry, exploding into a starburst of splinters. Wolverine landed on his feet and set Rogue down.

Steve put out his shield to cushion his landing, clattering into a tight summersault. He came out of the roll in a sprint and roared, "Attack!"

It was a foolish move, but there wasn't much choice. Steve knew the only advantage they had was the element of surprise and he wasn't going to lose it. The group turned at his yell, uncoordinated and confused.

Magneto lifted his voice, "Whoever brings me the Captain's shield will have a place of honor in my army."

Steve hit the line before they could move. His shield connected in the sternum of a man's chest with a crunch. Wolverine landed in the fray to his right, claws out. It was a mess of blood and violence. Steve's focus narrowed and sharpened. Flinging his shield to clear the space around him, Steve punched a heavily tattooed punk in the nose.

He had to dodge back as the same guy coughed up a spurt of fire in his direction. Heat curled over his exposed skin and Steve bared his teeth in a grimace. Snagging the edge of his shield from the air, Steve cracked the fire breather in the side of the head with the star and twisted to throw the disk again.

Arrows rained into the battle, thunking into skulls or releasing a volley of shrapnel as they descended. Some mutants dropped, some healed or regenerated. Magneto and his dark-haired daughter remained passive observers. Steve wondered why Magneto didn't do something to stop Wolverine. The clawed mutant was taking the others apart. His metal blades flashed in the corner of Steve's eye, stained red from their fight.

Rogue fought barehanded, which Steve didn't understand until he saw her grab another mutant by the arm. Her enemy collapsed to his knees. Two others came at her, one running on all fours. She jerked her head up and slapped both hands onto the ground. The stone at their feet jutted upward, bashing into them. She moved quickly to the next mutant to steal a different power.

Not far from her, Iceman crystallized anyone who came close to him. His power had completely engulfed him, tracing his suit with white frost and encasing his head and hands. A woman in a tattered denim jacket threw up a crackling wall of energy to block his attack.

Others clustered behind her, but Wolverine was on them in a second. He impaled a man with ashy gray skin and followed his body to the ground. The man melted as he landed, turning into a thick sludge under Logan. The sludge morphed, rising up and around him to reform. Humanoid again, the man slammed Logan's head into the rock by the nape of his neck. Steve heard the clang of metal. With a snarl, Wolverine whipped around and slashed him ineffectively.

Seeing a path, Steve bolted for Magneto. Another mutant jumped between them, a lithe, genderless figure in combat boots and a leather jacket. Almost too late, Steve realized it was the mutant that could generate shockwaves. The mutant clapped its hands together and Steve ducked behind his shield. The resulting sound was louder than a jet leaving the runway. It rammed the shield with enough force to make Steve slide backward. The shield rang, sending vibrations coursing through Steve's arm.

"Where's the cavalry?" he shouted at Clint as the mutant hit him with another shockwave, driving him back.

"Ten minutes out."

Steve cursed.

"Hang on, Cap. I've got you," Clint reassured.

Three arrows whistled out of the trees in rapid succession. Scarlet Witch raised her hands, a spark of energy flying from her fingers into the air. One of the arrows exploded, driving the others off course. They clattered harmlessly around the mutant protecting them.

Big hands closed on Steve's shoulders. He whipped his shield around to hit the perpetrator, but got tossed across the battleground before the blow landed. Steve oriented himself in the air, using his momentum to slam into a different enemy feet first. Taking a moment to assess their situation, Steve didn't like what he saw. They were still outnumbered four to one. Wolverine was caught up with the same ashy, incorporeal fighter he was before and Iceman was in a deadlock with a pair of mutants. Rogue was clearly wearing thin, her mouth hanging open as she struggled to catch her breath between enemies.

Suddenly, the floodlights all around the fight went dead. Generators coughed and fell silent, leaving them in complete darkness. A cry of confusion went up from the crowd. Steve's ears perked while his eyes were adjusting. It didn't seem to be a ploy on the part of the Brotherhood, they sounded just as bewildered as anyone left in the dark.

Something hit the ground, hard, and then the confusion erupted into panic. Screams and the thump of flesh smacking something unyielding filled the air. Steve raised his shield, narrowing his eyes to pick out the smears of shadow moving frantically. A flash of light briefly illuminated the battleground, unchecked energy flowing from someone's hands. Steve caught the sight of black on black, whatever it was slammed into the mutant and the light extinguished.

"What the hell is that?" someone shouted, the same voice giving a strangled cry a moment later.

The quarry quickly went silent as bodies hit the ground. Steve lifted his shield, his instincts screaming. He didn't know whether it was a friend or an enemy worse than the ones they were already fighting. The uncertainty put him on edge. He listened intently for any sign of the threat, catching the soft sound of footsteps in the unnerving quiet.

Shutting his panic in the back of his mind, Steve waited until the footsteps were close and swung his shield. Brilliant white-blue light flared from the figure's eyes and a round port in the chest, illuminating hands held up defensively.

"Wait, Steve! It's me!" Tony's voice cried.

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TBC…

Honestly, I struggled with this chapter a little. I rewrote the argument between Wolverine and Steve about five times before I was satisfied with it. I found Wolverine's attitude a little allusive, but I hope he works now. You'll get a proper intro to Tony's new suit in the next chapter!


	9. Babysitting for Rookies

A/N: So. It's finally done. This is by far the longest chapter I've ever, ever written. It's over 9,000 words, which is longer than a lot of STORIES I've written. Those who demanded Steve and Tony be part of this chapter, here you go. A lot of this was going to be part of the next chapter, so it's going to be getting a major overhaul as well. I hope everyone is satisfied with the changes. Thank you to all of you who told me to stay true to my original vision. None of Annika's POV has been altered because I was trying to do just that.

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Annika was bored. Dr. Banner knew a lot of fascinating things, but he was very dry. She found herself swinging her feet, her attention wandering away while he droned. If her Daddy was explaining it, he'd be animated and fun and ask her questions to see if she understood, but he'd put on the new MARK and left to help Papa.

They were in Dr. Banner's lab, Annika perched on a stool similar to the one Tony kept in the workshop. One of the doctor's current experiments covered the tables all along the wall. Dozens of test tubes and colorful Petri dishes drew her eye like a flock of butterflies. She wanted to play with them, but knew she shouldn't.

Biology and all the related 'messy' sciences were interesting, they just couldn't hold her attention the way something mechanical could. Annika was a little sad Daddy's new suit was complete because it was something she could tinker with for days on end. The new MARK responded differently than the metal suits. It had unique electrical distribution, allowing it to communicate on a higher level than the others did. Annika hoped it came back whole so she could get to know it better.

Annika looked over at the experiment again while Bruce talked about the regeneration rate of human cells, "Dr. Banner, why do you keep trying to take your power away when it helps you save people?"

The doctor lifted his head, his gaze darting across her, then to the floor. He took off his glasses and fiddled with the nosepiece as if he was trying to fix them, though Annika could tell he wasn't actually doing anything, "The other guy... doesn't always help people. Sometimes he hurts innocent bystanders. I can't control him."

"Daddy says you could learn. He says you're afraid to try," Annika piped up, pleased to share her Daddy's wisdom.

For a moment, the only sound was the whir and click of Dr. Banner's instruments. One of the steel-front refrigerators switched on, humming loudly. The mechanical arm shifting samples around in the mass spectrometer made a distinctive whine that meant it needed grease on the rail system. Annika looked at that rather than the doctor's perturbed stare.

"Your Daddy isn't always right," Banner said as he set his glasses on the counter with the collection of Petri dishes.

"Statistically, he's right ninety four point six percent of the time."

Banner's bushy caterpillar eyebrows crawled up his forehead, "Where are you getting your data?"

Annika kicked her feet, the heel of her saddle shoe clacking against the metal leg of the stool, "Careful scrutiny and extruded conclusions based on my observations." She stumbled over some of the bigger words, but pronounced them correctly once she'd worked through them.

"Have you considered that your observations are skewed by personal involvement?"

Annika let out a huff of air, "Of course I have, but I started my research before I was calling him Daddy. Plus, I've already corrected for potential bias."

The mass spec's deteriorating state concerned Annika. It limped through its procedures, each movement a struggle. She knew Dr. Banner was a superior scientist in the field of nuclear physics, but he was no mechanical engineer. She was considering saying something when Banner motioned at the dry-erase board and his lesson, "Are you remotely interested in this?" At her sheepish smile, he sighed, "What do you want to do?"

"Jarvis recorded a special for me about the history of artificial intelligence."

Shaking his head slowly, Banner erased the board and muttered, "Starks and machines…"

"Come on," she pulled at his hand by the index and middle finger until he put the eraser down and followed.

Outside the lab, Annika felt the void of the tower. Without her Daddy, the computers were silent, idling as they awaited his return. Normally, the penthouse was an orchestra of charged circuits all singing in perfect unison as they processed and transferred data. At the moment, Jarvis was the only voice in the tower, his servers reassurance that the silence wouldn't last. He responded at her touch. Coils of self-aware coding greeted her in a glimmer of ones and zeros too fast for most humans to comprehend.

Annika stretched her senses into the tower, her mind traveling the wires as a terabyte of data. She brushed over the computers in her Daddy's workshop and the screens flickered in her passing. His most recent work with the MARK S flared on the holographic projectors. Annika breathed in the blue wireframes. The colors brightened along the contours of the digital faceplate as she flipped the image and reexamined the equations. Blue light illuminated the nearby workstations, casting long shadows that Dummy tried to chase.

With her mind absent, her body stopped walking, her physical eyes distant and unseeing. Her mouth moved with words she spoke into the heart of the machine, "Bring him back. Keep him safe."

Buried so deeply in the tower's system, Annika flinched at the scream of the security breach. She slammed out of the computer so quickly her body tumbled backwards. Her heels caught on the smooth floor and she fell. Banner caught her by the arm, lifting her upright.

"Annika? Annika, what's wrong?"

The doctor took her face in both hands, kneeling to her level. She could feel the 'other' push against his control. Oddly, she found she wasn't frightened, only comforted. A dozen power signatures cropped up in the tower. Annika's eyes went wide, the whites showing all around the iris. She met Banner's gaze and saw worry and something else, something intense.

"They're inside," she whispered.

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Grinning behind his helmet at Steve's shock, Tony turned off the EMP that was hampering the quarry's generators. The stadium lights hummed and flickered as they heated up. The light ghosted over his slick, black armor, giving definition to his shadowed form. Unlike the metal armor, it seemed to absorb the light, something Tony took into account when he decided to give the suit a stealth treatment.

There was a cover for the arc port and a filter to cut out the glow from the eyes when Tony wanted to disappear. True stealth necessitated that he cut the power to the repulsors a mile or more from his target, so he'd installed retractable fins that allowed him to glide. While it certainly wasn't as powerful as the gold-titanium, the graphene could deflect bullets and blows once he added the sub-layer of Liquid Armor to absorb impact. The trade-off was the close nature of the armor; it conformed to his skin almost like latex, bulked up on his back, shoulders, and lower arms to accommodate his new weapons.

Steve stared. A lot. Tony smiled wider as the soldier reached his free hand out to feel the lines of Tony's stomach. "What is it?" he asked, his gloved index finger trailing from the dip where Tony's bellybutton would be all the way up to the arc. Tony bit back his sigh of relief when Steve didn't notice the change in the reactor. He would soon enough, but Tony might be able to avoid that conversation for a little while.

"Graphene and Liquid Armor, two things I did not invent, but I was the first one to put them together cohesively," Tony told him.

"There's no metal in it anywhere?"

"Not a scrap."

Steve's eyes drifted to the arc as he framed it with his hand, "What about the arc? The casing?"

"Wait…" Tony's peripheral sensors blipped with movement and he was never so relieved to have an enemy get up after he'd put them on their ass. Two mutants struggled to their feet, the third recovering almost instantly.

Wolverine crossed to them, giving Tony a sidelong eyebrow arch before considering the mutants left standing, "What'd you do with Magneto, hot shot? Vaporize him?" When the three combatants were finally up, Logan extended his claws in warning. One with a facial scar that ran from his hairline to his jaw raised his hands. A mutant with ashy skin hit his side, arguing with him in a low voice.

"Magneto?" Tony shook his head. "Magneto wasn't here when I landed. I saw the daughter, so I went after her first. Wanted to catch her off guard since her file said something about her being a 'class five mutant'."

"He was here," Steve confirmed.

An arrow thwacked into a gray-skinned mutant, punching through the center of his eye. The man jerked and fell to the ground. Tony's HUD tracked the trajectory all the way to Clint's hiding spot in the tree line. The image narrowed and zoomed, bringing the boughs of the pine into focus, but not the archer.

Steve pressed on his earpiece, looking in Clint's general direction, "Stand down, Barton! They're not fighting anymore."

"What? He regenerates. Relax, Cap."

Tony frowned and accessed the video data from his fight. "Jarvis, scan back to the point where I started my descent," Tony said, watching as the image on the HUD darkened and switched over to the night vision recording. A bird's eye view of the quarry filled his screen, the group of mutants still just specs on the ground.

"What are you doing in there?" Steve asked.

Much quieter, since Wolverine didn't have a personal comm connection with him, the X-Man snarked, "He probably naps in there. You'd never know."

Tony's eyes rolled back in his head at the comment. Logan couldn't pass up an opportunity to say something sharp. It was a very familiar habit. "I'm cycling through my recorded battle data trying to track when Magneto left the fight. I swear my suit would've picked him up, but I killed the power to the lights about a quarter mile out."

He got to the point in the video where his suit pinpointed specific mutants and magnified them. Jarvis had access to more databases than was strictly legal and he used to vast network to identify as many of the mutants as he could. Some of the information he tossed up on the screen was from rap sheets or FBI wanted lists, others were pulled directly from the SHIELD computers.

"Freeze the footage, Jarvis. Bring up the guest list for this party."

As Tony paged through the files, Steve groused, "Clint, stop shooting him. He's in custody."

"He keeps getting up. I'm just making sure he doesn't escape."

"It's not appropriate."

"You are the biggest stick in the mud I've ever met, Cap. Seriously, how are you and Tony married? How does that even work? He's fun."

"Shooting people when they're-"

"Okay kids," Tony cut in, closing the footage. "Magneto was not here. If he was, he was gone before I entered the airspace above the quarry."

Steve and Wolverine were going through the bodies when Tony's HUD went live. They had a few face down on the ground, zip strips from god knows where binding their wrists together. Rogue stood over them, her right hand bare and waiting for any one of them to make a move. Iceman was beside her, eyes concerned as he looked around the quarry. There were more dead than alive. Some were frozen solid, others ripped to shreds, and a few with concave chests or broken necks.

Tony leapt into the air and converted power to the thrusters. Gliding easily over the carnage, he touched down near Scarlet Witch. The woman was in the same position she fell in, legs and hips angled to the left, her upper body curving naturally so her shoulders and head were facing the other direction. Her cape spread out underneath her, a pool of satin blood. With her auburn curls whispering across her features, she looked like she might be sleeping instead of unconscious.

"He was with her," Steve said as he approached. "They didn't even engage in the fight, just let their recruits fall."

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Banner moved swiftly and with a purpose, but didn't run. Like most adults, he carried her because he was afraid she wouldn't keep up. Though Annika knew her legs were shorter and thus less effective when trying to achieve speed, she didn't like being carried all the time. When it was Daddy or Papa, it was okay.

"There are intruders on multiple levels, doctor. Please be advised that Mr. Stark has asked you not to 'hulk out' in the house. I would recommend the newly installed panic room, but considering the intruder's ability to change his density, I believe it would be wasted effort," Jarvis said crisply.

The lockdown procedures dropped as a weight in Annika's mind. She activated a few that were still in standby, sealing the access between levels. It would only slow some of them. The powers were vast and difficult to pin down. Annika recognized two of them, but the rest were foreign to her. The monster from her closet was in the tower. She tracked him with Jarvis's cameras, watching the red creature flash from room to room, searching for them.

Dr. Banner's feet banged out a staccato rhythm on the hardwood. Not as strong as her Papa, he had to readjust her from time to time as he carried her through the house. They moved quickly through the workout rooms, around the boxing ring then weaving through the weight benches. The doctor's head rotated like a nervous prey animal as he searched every corner, every new area they entered.

His heart thrummed under Annika's hand, the beat fast, but not pounding. He took even, calculated breaths. At first, Annika thought he was trying to control his fear, but she realized it was the 'other guy' he was subduing. The raging subconscious pulsed under the surface. Annika could see it in the edge of his irises, trying to spread.

"Listen to me, if I... If I lose control, I want you to run. Don't hesitate, don't try to stop me, just run. Okay? Do you understand?"

"No, no don't leave me alone," she whimpered, clutching at the shoulders of his shirt. The grey fabric bunched in her tiny fists and pulled tight over his chest.

As they entered the main floor, Banner scanned the open living room and bar. It was empty. Normal. Annika's books were strewn over the floor by the couch, her drawing stuff spread across the table. Her stomach knotted when she realized there was an open marker sitting on the couch. Daddy would not be happy if he saw that.

"If I change, you have to go or you won't be safe," Bruce told her firmly, crossing diagonally through the entryway. "You have to get a far from me as you can."

Jarvis's voice guillotined through Annika's denial, "Doctor, there are now intruders on the level directly below the main floor."

Banner ran past the elevator, Annika watching their reflections stretch and snap over the mirrored doors. The hall whipped by them. At the end was the emergency exit to the stairs, but Annika could feel the mutants on the other side. Security protocols kept them at bay. It wasn't going to stay that way long. There was a bigger force, something unstoppable, pounding up the stairs.

She cried, "Not that way!"

Banner slid to a stop, one loafer leaving a black streak on the floor.

A crack cut the quiet and the emergency exit exploded into the hall. Fragments pelted the opposite wall with the sharp bangs of a hailstorm, a mutant with a bullet-shaped helmet barreling out with it. As big as Thor, the mutant wore two leather straps crossed in the middle of his gigantic, bare chest, a pair of brown pants stretched taut over his thick thighs.

He watched Bruce back away with a gap-toothed grin, tilting his chin up, "Where do you think you're goin'? I'll be takin' the girl."

Other mutants came up the stairs behind him. Two of them picked through the carnage of the door and frame. A shorter man with vivid red hair stopped at the giant's elbow, flicking a lighter open and closed. The lid clicked and Annika flinched each time, her eyes sewn to the Zippo.

"Look, you don't want to do this," Banner told them. His free arm thrust forward, fingers splayed as if it would keep them away. "That would make me very angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, hit me?" the big mutant that smashed through the door sneered at him. His upper body flexed, bulging in a way that reminded Annika of a puffer fish. Beside him, the redhead flicked his lighter open and closed, his laugh short, but sharp.

Annika jerked at a soft pop and Banner turned as the red smoke drifted past them. It thinned and curled away, revealing the monster from her closet. In a pressed, black suit and tie, he presented an unusual image. She'd heard the others calling him Azazel. His yellow, pointed smile sent fear ripping through her insides. She pressed her face into Banner's shoulder to block it out. Her first instinct was to run and hide, but she couldn't with the doctor holding her so tightly.

"I wouldn't do that, Juggernaut. He isn't bluffing," Azazel warned the others, stepping forward slowly, deliberately. He put each foot forward like he was testing the integrity of the ground ahead of him, only advancing when Bruce didn't spontaneously rupture into his green form.

Sandwiched between them, Banner backed toward the wall, "Stay back. Last warning. I won't be able to hold him much longer."

"Consider the girl, Dr. Banner. If you changed here, she would get caught in the crossfire and killed," Azazel explained and tucked his hands in his pockets. Once he was standing directly in front of them, he stopped moving. Others filled the end of the hall, mutants of all shapes and sizes, but they kept their distance at Azazel's snappish tail-flick.

The massive man he'd called Juggernaut started to speak, "He's no big threat, just take-"

"It would be best if you started using your head for something other than smashing through walls. Now, shut up," Azazel growled without looking away from Banner. "That one's had a few too many concussions, I'm afraid… It's time to hand over the girl, doctor."

"Not a chance."

Annika closed her eyes and reached through the tower's wiring with her mind. In a fraction of a second, she was in Jarvis's protocols. There were millions of files, millions of self-imposed limitations and rules. She was familiar with all of them, and had even rewritten a few when she wanted into a room she didn't have permission to enter, or when she wanted access to Daddy's tools for a project.

"Miss, what are you doing to my coding? You are not permitted to alter my parameters," Jarvis spoke to her inside the machine. The ones and zeroes of his consciousness clustered in a brilliant, humanoid shape, the lines of data scowling at her. "I'm afraid I will have to treat you as a virus if you do not cease now."

"I'm sorry, Jarvis," she whispered.

Knowing exactly what she was looking for, Annika brushed through the protocols and found the security procedures. Jarvis was following them in sequential order. Lockdown, isolation, activating the defense systems should the tower be void of friendly occupants. His final resistance was to contact local authority in Tony's absence, but Annika knew that wouldn't be enough. She scrubbed the final code.

The firewall came up, pushing her away. The aggressive defense had her Daddy's signature on it, hand crafted and coded. It was definitely new. Annika gasped, mentally withdrawing from the barrier. She'd heard Tony talk about it, that he was going to build something bigger and better so she couldn't hack Jarvis, but she didn't think he'd finished it.

Somewhere, miles away, she felt something yank at her physical body. The slap of flesh hitting flesh sounded like it traveled through an ocean before it reached her. A crunch followed. Something roared.

Annika threw herself at the digital blockade, "Jarvis! Jarvis, you have to let me finish!"

The defense was thick and tightly woven. She tried to find a place to wriggle through, hitting it again and again until her head ached from exertion. "Jarvis, please!" she screamed, "I need Daddy. I'm scared."

Her voice broke with her concentration and she blinked awake to find herself lying on the floor. A tree trunk of a leg was so close to her head that she could reach out and touch it. She followed the line of muscle and vein and rigid tension up to the Hulk. He filled the hallway, standing over her defensively. His shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

Bracing his feet wide, he roared at the mutants. Annika scrambled closer to his leg, her attention flickering ceaselessly from one side of the hall to the other. Juggernaut was unmoved, but the others fell back a step at the Hulk's bellow. A few in the entryway turned and ran.

Azazel staggered to his feet, clutching his side. He bared his teeth and growled, "Juggernaut, occupy our green friend. Pyro, watch the helicopter pad for the mother. The rest of you, focus on the girl."

The redhead with the lighter peeled away from the group and vanished down the stairs. Grinning, Juggernaut broke into a run. As he picked up speed, Annika felt his power build. Hulk tensed and Annika realized she couldn't stay where she was. With a sob, she darted for the break in the mutant line. Behind her, the mutant collided with Banner, the sound like a train slamming into a cliff. A bellow shook the hall and everyone in it.

Annika hit the wall trying to dodge around a tattooed, grasping hand, barely slipping by. The hand caught one of her pigtails and yanked her head around. Tears came to her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks as she let out a whimpered cry. The mutant crowded her against the wall, a forked tongue slipping out of his wicked smile. "Got you," he hissed, his eyes melting from brown to gold and narrowing to slits.

A massive green fist hit him in the chest. He flew as if aided by wings, tumbling through their living room and hitting the landscape windows that faced the Chrysler building. The pane of glass shattered, and then he was gone. Annika kept running even as the thunderclap of Hulk and Juggernaut's fight resumed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Unless," Tony mused. "Unless it wasn't him."

He didn't have the equipment to do a biometrics scan in the new suit. It was too streamline to fit all of his regular accoutrements. The HUD's target circle followed Tony's eye, locking onto one mutant at a time as he looked over them. Since he wasn't in battle mode anymore, Jarvis provided the descriptions for those he could.

"Are you thinking one of them is a shape changer?" Iceman asked and walked between the rows of subdued mutants. A woman, or man, Tony really wasn't sure, with short, dark hair watched Bobby with a curled lip. Most of the others kept their eyes adverted.

Steve's brow knit, barely visible through the eyeholes of his mask. Tony knew the expression, but someone else would've missed it. "How can we tell that? Is there a way to test them?"

On the other side of the quarry, Clint's dark shape dropped out of a tree and onto the arm of a nearby crane. He scurried down the chipping, yellow framework with some speed, grabbing a strut and slinging himself onto the roof of the cab. Though the crane's body was monstrous and tall, he jumped to the ground. Tony nodded to him as he sauntered over to join them.

Steve pointed a stern finger at Clint, "Don't shoot anybody else."

"Yeah, fine. Buzz kill." The archer's smirk made Tony smile behind his mask. Hawkeye was rarely sorry for things he said or did. Focusing on their work, Clint said, "Tasha made contact, they're two minutes out. A little late. Again, but they can do cleanup."

"Did you just suggest that Tasha would handle any kind of cleanup? You're the one dating the woman, aren't you aware even hinting she should clean something will get you castrated?" Tony mentioned and flipped up his visor.

Clint quirked his head to the side, almost thoughtful, "Good point. The woman's never been big on gender roles." He pulled one of his arrows from a fallen mutant. Cleaning the tip with a rag, Clint slipped it back in the quiver. The mechanism cranked and rotated the tip off the shaft for storage while the Hawk went to the next body.

Logan sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling. Stalking slowly through the carnage, Wolverine scented the air like an animal. Tony thought he had an idea where his codename came from. The mutant growled, "Mystique," and his eyes narrowed sharply.

Tony tensed and he heard Steve do the same, the creak of the shield handle extremely telling to his husband. The shifter was more dangerous than most. Tony wasn't about to underestimate the woman. Iceman and Rogue looked to Wolverine, fear in their young faces. Without searching any files, Tony knew they'd dealt with her before.

The moment her attention turned, one of the mutants by Rogue's feet jumped up. She whipped around, but he swept his leg under her and sent her crashing to the ground. Tony shot a repulsor blast that the mutant dodged. An ill-fitting grin spread across the man's face, pushing aside the scar that ran from his hairline to his jaw.

Wolverine charged with a roar, his claws snapping into place between his knuckles. Blue enveloped the scarred mutant. Tendrils of flesh wrapped around the shape-changer, squeezing her waist and filling out her chest as she dodged away from Logan's swipes. His claws hissed through the air. A smirk pulled at the corner of Mystique's mouth and she wove and twisted around Wolverine's attacks. Her movements were so fluid that it was more of a dance than a fight.

"Don't kill her," Steve yelled, rushing in with his shield leading the way, "She'll know the whereabouts of Magneto's base of operations. We want her alive, Wolverine."

Tony started to mention that it didn't look like Wolverine was going to be able to lay a claw on her, but his skin prickled as the air took on an electrical charge. Flipping down his mask, Tony was able to watch the crackle of energy lance through the quarry. "Jarvis... what is that?" Tony asked, trying to follow the lines of pinkish sparks back to the origin.

"It appears as though Scarlet Witch is awake, sir. The energy radiating from her body is beyond my analysis," the computer sounded apologetic, almost embarrassed. "It seems to alter the chemical profile of everything it contacts."

"That doesn't sound good," Tony muttered.

Scarlet Witch wasn't just awake. She was effervescent with power, her hair flowing around her as if there was a strong wind gusting through the quarry. Her feet lifted off the ground and she levitated above them. As she raised her hands out to her sides, Tony felt the charge in the air reach critical mass even through his suit. He shot two repulsor blasts at her, but as he expected, they rebounded off a wall of energy. A ripple of electricity spread across the invisible barrier, curling around the sphere that surrounded her. Scarlet Witch fixed glowing eyes on Tony.

"Steve..." Tony drew out his husband's name, backing away from the mutant.

At the corner of his HUD, he saw Rogue and Iceman doing the same. High above them, the stadium lights exploded in rivers of sparks. Steve left Mystique to Wolverine, getting in front of Tony with his shield raised.

"Go. Now!" the soldier barked at the petrified teens.

Bobby shook free of his fear long enough to grab Rogue's arm and run. "No," she shouted over the snapping power, "We should help." Rogue stopped, bending at the waist as she tried to dig her shoes into the rock for traction.

Iceman tugged her off balance, "They want us out of the way!" but she pulled back, looking over her shoulder at Wolverine.

"Logan!" Rogue cried. The streaks of brown and white hair whipped around her face, drawn toward the nexus of power Scarlet Witch created.

Wolverine caught Mystique's high kick, spinning his body so she flung though the air like a wet towel. He released her and sent her tumbling across the quarry floor, shouting to the young X-Men, "Get out of here. We'll be fine." At the same moment Wolverine lifted his head and scanned the sky, Tony's audio sensors picked up the sound of the approaching quinjet.

"Good, back up," Tony said. "About time. I'm going to overhaul that damn jet so they get here faster."

"Glad to see you too, Stark," Natasha said dryly in his ear.

The HUD highlighted the outline of the jet in the black sky. It was little more than a spec, still several thousand feet in the air. Two shapes dropped out of the back. Considering the only two capable of flight were Thor and Storm, Tony didn't need to zoom in to identify them.

Steve hurled his shield at Scarlet Witch. The disk slammed into her force field with a metallic clang, ricocheting off course. "We need to find a way to break through her defenses," he shouted, blue eyes scanning their surroundings for inspiration. The soldier could find solutions in a jam faster than anyone Tony knew.

"Got any bright ideas?"

Before Steve could answer, Scarlet Witch raised her hands. She spread them out in front of her, pink arcs of energy darting across her splayed fingers. A bolt broke off and struck the ground by Steve's boots. The soldier leapt away, tucking into a roll and snatching his shield as he regained his feet. Tony shot into the air. Scarlet Witch tracked him with two fingertips. Her heart-shaped face dawned over her shoulder, her eyes illuminated with her power.

Thor came out of the sky like a hailstorm. Cape flying behind him, the Norse demi-god brought his hammer down into the barrier. The energy solidified at the point of contact. In a breath, the entire sphere glowed bright white, hiding Scarlet Witch from view. All over Tony's HUD, the power readings spiked in red.

"Everybody get down!" Tony roared and cut the power to the repulsors.

He clanked to the ground, dropping to one knee, and Steve was over him in an instant. His arm went around Tony's chest, pulling him close, and Steve lifted the shield. The light parted around them, drawing smoke from everything it touched.

The barrier exploded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The mutants were everywhere. She could feel them, so she kept her distance. Taking the path of least resistance, Annika cut through the kitchen and came out by the stairs that led to the bedrooms. The part of her that was irrational and childish wanted to go up and hide under her bed, but the part that had been learning from her fathers firmly said that was a sure way to get caught. She needed a defendable position, the 'high ground', as her Papa would call it.

Annika took a left and sprinted toward her Daddy's workshop. The door clicked open before she reached it. "Thank you, Jarvis," she gasped as she tumbled inside. She pushed the door shut and heard the three deadbolts snap home.

Her movement woke the shop. Computers switched on and the wireframes she'd been toying with earlier painted the air with crisp, colorful lines. Dummy lifted his arm over the tables to observe her with the optical sensors built into his claw. His ancient processor considered her for a moment as he matched her features with his limited database. The moment he recognized her, he trundled over.

Even with as old and outdated as he was, Annika loved Dummy. He was the one thing in her Daddy's shop that had a glimmer of personality. Tony was always saying that the robot arm was buggy and he needed to scrap him, but as often as he said it, Daddy never scrapped Dummy. Annika had figured out a while ago that he loved the robot too, quirks and all.

Dummy lowered his arm as he got closer, the claw hand tilting to one side. A soft, quizzical whistle made Annika's tears flow faster. Her chest tightened and she climbed onto the rectangular base that made up Dummy's body. With a sob, she hugged the robot arm fiercely. He sat still, his limited mind trying to determine what this new interaction was. He understood yelling and petting and flying tools aimed at him, but not hugging.

In the workshop, there was no battle. The room was insulated so the rest of the tower wasn't bombarded by her Daddy's loud music when he was working. The only sounds were Dummy's servos and the occasional hiss of his hydraulic arm changing position. Annika sniffled, her glistening eyes going vacant as she reentered the tower's mind. The unyielding firewall stood before her, Jarvis's security protocols tucked away on the other side.

A dark chuckle brought her back before she could look for a way through. She sat up, her vision refocusing to make sense of her surroundings. The internal workings of the servers faded slowly. She wasn't used to going back and forth fluidly; her mind needed time to adjust. When she finally separated Azazel's form from the stagnant shapes of machines, she fell off Dummy's base.

"Enough running. I'm here to take you back to your mother," the red-skinned demon told her.

Annika shouted, "Liar!"

She crawled across the workshop floor on her hands and knees, keeping desks and workstations between her and the mutant. His footsteps were the only thing she had to judge his position. Squeezing beneath the cross-braces of one of the tables, she went to the far end and peered around for Azazel. A toolbox blocked a portion of her view, but also shielded her from the mutant as well.

"Raisa is worried about you. She sent me to bring you to her. Don't you want to go see your mother?" his voice asked from somewhere near the desk at the center of the shop.

Annika's instincts screamed. She couldn't trust any of them. They were the people that wanted to take her from Daddy and Papa. They would say anything. Annika hunched in her hiding place, keeping her mouth shut. There was a car frame a few feet from the toolbox. On the other side of that was what seemed like a mile of open space and the workshop door.

Heart pounding, Annika wedged her head and shoulders between the table leg and the toolbox. She dragged herself through by her arms so she wouldn't kick something, stifling a panicked hiccup once she was through. She darted to the car frame.

Azazel's voice was closer, but still to her right, "I'm not fond of hide-and-go-seek. It's time to go. Your mother is waiting."

Annika reached the front of the car and stared at the stretch of clean floor. There was nothing to hide her. Suddenly, there was a thump and Azazel growled, "Wretched little robot! Get off."

Annika took off. In the back of the shop, Dummy had a hold of the mutant's tail. He tugged it, drawing snarls from the blood-red creature. Azazel dematerialized and reformed behind the robot. A kick to the support strut sent Dummy clattering onto his side, his wheels spinning uselessly.

As Annika made it to the door, the glass flared bright white and started to melt. Shocked, she watched liquid drip from the door's metal frame. It was security glass, impervious to bullets, but it was gone in seconds. Annika skittered deep into the workshop as three more mutants walked through the empty frame.

The woman who came through first glanced at Azazel and looked over at her. She had black hair cropped at the edge of her jaw, her clothing a simple pair of jeans and a shirt that said 'Anarchy is Life'. "Aren't you just the cutest thing," she crooned, crouching to Annika's level. Annika knew the trick. Look small and be less threatening. Gain trust. Annika wasn't buying it. "We're not going to hurt you."

One of the others told Azazel, "The Hulk is ripping us apart. We need to get out of here."

"Just grab her," Azazel snapped, kicking Dummy once more. His tail curled up on itself to hide the darkening skin where the robot's claw hand clamped down.

Annika backed into the alcove with the suit bays. They were locked up in response to the break in, out of reach, but the security for the MARK suits was on a different network from Jarvis. Annika slipped into it, her head lowering as her eyes lost focus on the approaching mutants. The defensive grid was similar to Jarvis's old firewall, before Daddy updated it. Annika knew the way through.

The convex steel doors that protected the suits slid up into the wall. Lights came on above and below the seven red and gold machines, gleaming off the polished surfaces. Annika's body stared at the mutants with unseeing eyes, but through the suits, she could see their alarmed faces. Drawing power from the rest of the house to replace Tony's chest piece, Annika pushed it into them. The floors went black one at a time, starting at the ground level heading up. Every generation of MARK whirred to life. Their chest ports lit up as they stepped down off their platforms, their eyes glowing white while the rest of the shop darkened.

"Leave me alone," her voice screamed through their speakers, amplified and metallic.

The MARK III stepped in front of her slumped body. It raised both arms, hatches lifting to reveal rows of micro missiles. The others clanked forward. Annika drew every weapon she could find and the suits hissed and whined as catches of missiles went into position to fire and cutting lasers heated.

They whispered, "Go away," a child's plea when they had enough firepower to bring down the skyscraper.

White, bewildered faces stared into the eyes of the machines. Annika could see them from a half a dozen angles, tracked their retreat with red crosshairs. Gunshots echoed down the hall and the mutants scattered like a flock of birds. Annika didn't understand. She wasn't the one shooting.

"Stay and fight, cowards," Azazel yelled. "She's just a child. Prove you deserve a place in the Brotherhood."

Her mother walked in with a pistol raised. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness like fireworks. The woman with the black hair crumpled to the floor, as did a man that tried to climb the wall to escape. Azazel vanished in a plume of smoke, leaving them alone.

Her mother turned the gun barrel to the lead MARK, her face hard with rage, "Where is my daughter, Stark? Produce her or I will find a way to pry you out of that damn machine."

"Mama?" Annika withdrew from the suits and the empty shells crashed to the ground. Without the night vision built into the MARKs, Annika stared into complete darkness. She struggled to her feet, her flesh body tired and weak. "Mommy," she called again and reached into the black room.

Her mother switched over to Russian, the language unfamiliar after almost a year of hearing only English, "I'm here, my pet. I'm here."

Fingers brushed gently through her hair. Annika leaned into the touch, tears starting anew. She threw her arms around her mother and wailed into her neck, "Mama. You came back. Don't leave me anymore."

"Hush, darling. We will go together, I'm not going to leave you." Pulling out of her hold, her mother stood, "But we do not have time to cry. We have to be brave."

The overhead lights flickered on, brightening as the power supply balanced. Her back to her daughter, Raisa picked over the suits, eyeing them like they might get up again. She turned once to see if Annika was following and said sternly, "Come along. We don't have time."

Annika stayed in the middle of her Daddy's empty machines. Her fear subsided enough that her logic took over. If she left, she wouldn't see her Daddy or Papa again. Her mother was not a good person. They would have to hide, pretend that they were someone different so her mother wouldn't be arrested and put in jail. Though Tony had carefully hidden the files from her, Annika had seen them. SHIELD's file listed Raisa's kill count in the high hundreds.

"Annika, come. We won't have long before they're back," Raisa ordered.

"No."

Her mother turned slowly, her thin brows colliding over her eyes, "No?"

"I want to stay with Daddy and-" Annika broke off as her mother's lips pressed into a thin line. Her anger hit Annika like a burst of heat and she stumbled back a step.

Raisa picked up the helmet closest to her, shaking it at Annika, "This man is not your father! He doesn't care about you, all he knows is greed and lechery. He will forget you as soon as-"

"No!" Annika clenched her hands into fists. They trembled by her sides as she yelled, "You're wrong! Daddy and Papa love me."

"They don't love you, you're not even theirs. I'm the only one who loves you, Annika."

"Yes they do, they tell me all the-"

"Enough!" Raisa screamed and threw the helmet across the shop. It clanged out of sight.

Annika shrank away at the shout, her eyes watering. She blinked at the sting behind her eyelids and the tears escaped down her face. Her chest felt as though someone had run her through. Abruptly, she sat down in the scattered mess of Tony's suits. Sobs wracked her tiny frame, making it hard to breath. She gasped and brought her legs up so she could curl around them.

"For god's sake," Raisa muttered as she picked her up beneath her arms.

While her mother carried her out of the workshop, Annika left her body. She approached the firewall carefully, sweeping an analytical eye over the coding. It was complex, more so than any defense system Annika had ever encountered, but her Daddy liked to test her. Sometimes, he made it seem to Papa that he was just telling her 'no', but often there was a trick to it. He'd praise her when Papa was out of earshot if she figured it out.

Far away, her human body heard gunshots. She ignored them. The firewall was more important. Once she was taken from the tower, she would be too far away to access Jarvis's system. She had to finish changing his protocols before her mother took her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tony counted the seconds as the HUD reset to compensate for the sudden saturation of light. Normally, the built in sensors controlled a series of filters to safeguard against this sort of thing, but he'd rushed the last hour of production on the suit. Unlike the MARK VII, this model was missing more than spinning rims. It was good on paper, but he'd need to do another fabrication before he could consider using it again.

At seven seconds, the HUD finally came back online. As the white glare cleared, dusky shadows of people came into focus. Tracking circles honed in on them and Jarvis identified the shapes before Tony could. Sensors all across the board were going haywire. The temperature of the blackened rock was sky high, high enough that Tony wouldn't want to touch it with a bare hand.

"Tony, are you okay?" Steve's undefined silhouette asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," Tony mumbled, slapping the side of the helm with an open palm. "I just can't see."

Tony felt Steve's hand close over the arm of his suit, the sensation incredibly foreign when he was wearing armor. The thinner material let the warmth and weight of his husband's touch reach his skin. Steve's tone took a note of concern, "Is it-"

"It's just my helmet, big guy. Don't worry about it. Rushed production to get out here," Tony explained quickly.

The hold at his bicep loosened, but didn't release. Steve lifted him to his feet.

Finally, the image stabilized. He saw Thor getting up, the demi-god's hammer propped on the ground to support him. Black residue tarnished the front of Thor's armor. "Should the same option arise again, I believe I would bypass repeating that particular form of attack," the giant blond said gruffly, stumbling to the side.

A gentle rain pattered them from a previously clear sky. The overheated surfaces hissed and steamed, coils of it rising from Thor's armor and Steve's shield. Storm drifted through the thin cloud cover like a descending swan, landing to Thor's right. She surveyed the blast radius with outward calm. "The others are scanning for an appropriate place to land," she informed them.

The ever-vigilant commander, Steve checked on the others, "Is everyone alright? Status report. Barton?"

The archer answered, "Feelin' like I got the worst sunburn in history, but I'm battle ready, Captain."

While the reports came in from an extremely crass Wolverine and a shaken Rogue and Iceman, Tony took aim at Scarlet Witch. The woman got up and Tony warned, "Don't move or I'll let the guy with the hammer play tennis with you again."

Her eyes hardened, her narrow ribcage heaving with gasps. Without her power making her hair into a nest of snakes, it hung in damp, auburn curls across her chest. She didn't look defeated, far from it. Tony could see the fight in her fists and the way her body straightened when she caught her breath.

"Where's Mystique?" Clint asked as he came up beside Tony, arrow notched and aimed in the mutant's direction.

"I-" Tony broke off when the readings coming from Scarlet Witch jumped. It was a flicker, a spark that leapt off her slender hand and vanished into the air. Tony's suit tracked the fleck of energy like a projectile. It headed straight for the quinjet. "Romanoff! Execute evasive maneuvers!"

Above the cloud cover, the engines of the SHIELD jet roared. Following the heat signature, Tony could see it lift higher and tilt to the side. It banked like a flying elephant, never the most agile air support. Tony put all power into his thrusters as the cross hairs tracking the spark of energy curved toward the jet.

He burst through the generated rain clouds, getting a clear view just before the spark struck. It hit low on the jet's belly, behind the left wing. Red crackles of power crawled over the metal surface. Tendrils of it scratched their way into the creases and seams. Once it was out of sight, Tony's audio sensors picked up the choked whine of the engines shutting down.

"Thor! Storm! Could use a little help up here," Tony barked into the comm.

With the Captain tone in place, Steve demanded, "Tell me what's going on up there."

"They've lost power. We need to slow the decent and get everyone out."

The jet listed drunkenly to the left as the first turbine cranked to a stop. Their flight path went into a uncontrolled spin. Tony turned his palm thrusters toward the jet, slowing his approach near the center of mass at the landing gear. The dark sheet metal reflected the light from the repulsors, flashing in white and blue. Tony jammed his fingers into a seam and searched for a solid handhold. The ground was approaching fast. For lack of a better option, Tony ripped the cover off the front wheel and grabbed a support girder.

"Jarvis, back up thrusters online. Push everything we've got into them. Boots on full burn."

"Sir, at the current rate of descent-"

Tony grit his teeth, "I'm not trying to stop them, just buy them time. Full burn. Now."

Auxiliary boosters on his calves and back whispered open, clicking once before streams of white fire exploded from them. Tony's eye flicked to the altimeter. Barely a thousand feet from impact. The numbers ticked down faster than sand through an hourglass.

"Thor, where the hell-"

The Norseman helicoptered up past the jet with his hammer. Catching the handle to still Mjölnir, Thor arced down onto the wing of the quinjet. The boom of his landing rattled Tony's teeth. He acted quickly, running for the front of the fuselage and the cockpit.

"Move aside, friends, so I might free you!" Thor shouted through the glass, waving a meaty arm to help them understand.

Tony winced at the deep roar of sound, "Shakespeare, Tasha has a comm earpiece, you don't have to yell."

The altimeter dropped out of the thousands and into the hundreds. Tony's efforts slowed it, but it was descending too fast for his repulsors to be effective. Bracing his shoulders against the plane, Tony shoved the reserve power into his thrusters. The quarry loomed closer and the specs that were teammates scattered out of the way.

Tony heard the shattering of glass. Shards drifted in the air beside him, wind resistance giving the bigger pieces enough drag that they descended a few milliseconds faster than the plane. They winked in pale blue and yellow, catching the stadium light as well as his repulsors.

"Tony," Steve's voice came in over a private line.

Glancing at the altimeter again, Tony replied, "Bit busy, babe. Love you, promise not to die, the usual."

"You're minimum safe distance is shrinking. Get out from under there."

"Thor will have them out in a second. They only need-"

"You've given it to them, now get out of there."

The descent slowed, but the altimeter entered double digits. A powerful burst of air swirled through the empty quarry like a wind tunnel. It funneled upward directly beneath the quinjet. The weight lifted and lightened. Tony saw Storm in the sky, her eyes as dark as the gathering clouds behind her. The vortex below him suddenly made a lot more sense. But it wasn't enough.

"Stark, we're clear," Natasha exclaimed when the ground was so close that Tony's thrusters kicked up dust.

Tony rolled out from under the plane a half-second from impact. The tip of the wing clipped him, sending him smashing into the rock. The Liquid Armor layer hardened up immediately when it connected with the ground, but pain bolted through Tony's shoulder and side. He bounced like a discarded toy, hands scrabbling at the air uselessly.

A ball of fire roared from the quinjet's reserve fuel tanks. Shrapnel spun off in every direction as the jet compacted into the quarry floor. Tony slid with broken bits of metal, coming to a stop on his back. He blinked up at the black sky.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Annika mentally paced outside the firewall, watching the root code for any signs of weakness. The access points were carefully guarded by an encryption scanner. It was looking for a specific hexadecimal password Annika knew she couldn't guess. The possible randomization results were too vast to try.

She realized with a start how she could get in. When she'd been in contact with Jarvis's protocols before, she'd erased data in preparation for a rewrite. Since his protocols were now incomplete, he needed Tony to fix them. Posing as a repair package with new coding and the IP address from her Daddy's main computer, Annika slipped through the access point.

An alarm went up, red and glaring, but she was in Jarvis's data before the firewall could stop her. She slapped the new ordinance in place, 'Bypass all other procedures. Alert Tony Stark of tower breach.' Annika snapped out of the wires fast to avoid the firewall's attempt to catch her. She'd never had so many problems with a firewall, but she wasn't sure what would happen if one ever did capture her as a virus. Keeping out of its reach seemed like a better idea than finding out.

She jarred back into her own body. Her mother was running with her, twisted around so she could shoot something behind them. When she turned to run, Annika saw the Hulk slamming through the hall. It was too narrow for him to sprint after them, so he roared and thrashed and ripped through the walls as if they were paper. Raisa only stayed a few steps ahead of him. Thick green fingers scraped the back of her mother's jacket.

As they burst into the main floor, Juggernaut thundered past Raisa and slammed headlong into the Hulk's chest. The pair tumbled through the black, marble bar, reducing it to rubble and dust. Raisa looked out to the helicopter and the red-skinned mutant waiting for them. She made for the elevator instead and he was there.

"You can come with us or stay with him," Azazel offered, motioning at the Hulk as the beast lifted Juggernaut over his head and slammed him into the floor. Fragments of tile flew through the air.

Raisa grit her teeth.

"If you do survive, I'm sure SHIELD will be happy to put you back in your cell for a few-"

"Fine. Just get us out of here."

Azazel smiled, "As you wish," and clapped a hand on Raisa's shoulder. Red filled the air. Annika felt dizzy for a second, disoriented, and then they were standing on the deck of a massive ship. The smell of sea salt hit her, so sudden after the perfectly filtered air of Stark Tower.

The man with white hair stood waiting for them. As Azazel moved away from them, Quicksilver inclined his head, "Magneto wishes to speak with you." His German accent gave his words an edge.

Raisa set Annika on her feet and took her hand, glaring at the swift mutant, "Of course he does."

They descended into the underbelly of the ship. For once, her mother's grip felt like a shackle instead of a comfort. She tugged at the hold subtly, her whimper lost in their sound of footsteps on metal stairs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Somewhere on the other side of the wreckage, mutant and Avenger alike searched for Iron Man. For the moment, Tony didn't want to move. Every twitch sent a new chill of agony through his shoulder. It was the same one he'd wounded in the fight with Magneto, so Tony could guess that he'd ripped a few stitches open. It was impossible to tell under the armor whether or not he was bleeding.

Tony accessed his private link to Steve with an eye flick to the upper, right hand corner of his screen, "Steve, I'm-"

"Sir," Jarvis interrupted and brought up a display image of Stark Tower. "The tower is under attack. At the guidance of Annika's new protocols, I was directed to phone you instead of the local authorities."

Tony went cold, "What about Annika?"

"What about Annika?" Steve asked, his tone alarmed, "Tony, what are you talking about? Where are you?"

Jarvis stayed quiet, something he only ever did when he knew deep in his coding that Tony didn't want to hear the answer.

"Jarvis!"

"She's been taken from the premises."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long. Thanks for being patient.


	10. Lost Souls

Steve's heart clenched so tightly he swore it stopped beating. Their daughter was gone. Taken. He couldn't breathe. He was vaguely aware of things happening around him. Scarlet Witch and Mystique had disappeared in the chaos and Wolverine was circling the area trying to find their trail. Cyclops went out to him and they started arguing out of earshot. In the light of the burning quinjet, Clint checked Natasha to see if she was alright, though his attention wasn't well received when the spy was hurt and grumpy.

When she gave the archer a hard glare, he finally stepped back. Clint said something to Steve that the soldier didn't hear, his mouth pulling to the side before he walked closer. "What's going on? Captain?" Clint asked. His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "Sir?"

Thor came around in front of him, his face creased with concern. His blond brow furrowed as he grasped Steve's shoulders. His grip grounded Steve, brought him back, "What has happened to the little one?"

Steve realized that the others were only getting half of the conversation. There was no time to brief them. If the break in at the tower just happened then they could possibly track the perpetrators through the city... but only if they got there fast.

Steve leapt into action. Barreling through the wreckage of the quinjet, Steve jumped over a piece of rotor and slid under the burning body of the jet. Heat from the fire rolled over his face like breath. Using his forward motion, Steve braced his boot on an uprooted chunk of rock and went from a slide to a run. He found Tony at the edge of the wreckage. His husband struggled to get up, clearly favoring one arm.

Steve didn't mention it, he knew Tony would rather get to Annika than worry about his arm. He steadied Tony and asked, "Who took her? Magneto's men?"

Tony flipped the mask back, wincing as he regained his feet, "I don't know. Jarvis is compiling the data." Eyes dark with intensity, pain, rage, loss, Tony ordered, "Get back to their jet, and head to New York. I'll-"

"No," Steve shook his head and steadied Tony with a hand on his chest. "No, I'm going with you. If they're still there, you're going to need back up."

"Steve, when I break the sound barrier-"

Steve held up his shield, "I'll use this, cut through the wind to maintain your... your..."

"Aerodynamics," Tony provided.

"Yeah... that would work, right?" There was no way he was letting Tony go alone. His husband was injured. Though he knew Tony could handle almost anything, there was too much they didn't know about these mutants. Some had power enough to eliminate entire cities.

"Do you have any idea the force that would be applied to the shield? I don't even know if you can-"

Steve stepped into Tony's space, hooking his fingers in the front of the billionaire's suit at the apex of the chest plate, "Tony, stop arguing with me. You're not going alone."

Tony shut his mouth and pressed his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes dropped and Steve knew he'd gotten through to him. Sometimes, it just took a firm command with Tony, but other times that would backfire and the dark-haired mule would dig his heels in. Steve was grateful when Tony nodded.

"Good. All right. Let's go find her," Steve said softly.

Natasha came around the burning plane. The cut in her hairline that Clint had been fussing over was bleeding again, the red trailing down into her manicured brow. She either didn't notice or didn't care. Knowing Natasha, Steve figured it was the latter. The Russian noticed everything; she just chose to ignore most wounds. Clint and Thor followed on her heels, both on edge and tense.

"Explain," Romanoff barked. "What's going on?"

Steve slid his shield off his arm and took it in two hands as Tony flipped his visor down, "They broke into the tower and took Annika. Tony and I are going to head there, the rest of you follow us in the Blackbird."

Natasha cocked her hip to the side and braced her bloodied knuckles on the curve, "If Stark came here to help us, then who was Annika even with? Did you leave her alone?"

"Of course not," Tony groused, Iron Man's voice sharp and irritated. But he didn't offer up his babysitter choice.

Steve turned, looking into the glowing eyes of the suit. Even as he asked, "Who was she with?" he got a sinking feeling that he knew the answer. Banner. He went with Tony to help him and didn't come out to the fight. It was the most logical explanation. What wasn't logical was why Tony would leave their daughter with a man that had no control over his rage. Steve didn't think the doctor would hurt her intentionally, but the Hulk caught innocent people in his backswing all the time.

When Tony didn't answer him, Steve breathed, "Dear god..."

"We don't have time for this," Tony told him, pointing east, "Are you coming, or am I flying alone?"

Steve had to swallow down his anger. The muscle on his jaw flexed and his nostrils flared, but he managed not to shout at his husband. They could have that fight later. Now, their little girl needed them. "I'm coming with you, but we are going to talk about this."

Tony came around behind him and grabbed him under the arms, "I'm looking forward to it." Even with the voice filter on the mask, Steve could sense the sarcasm.

Steve hoisted the shield up, ordering, "Meet us there," just before Tony's rockets heated and they shot into the air.

The quarry shrank beneath them. Wind buffeted Steve, so he tilted the leading edge of the shield until it blocked the current. He gripped the handles tightly, keeping his elbows close to his sides. He felt the heat of Tony's repulsors through his boots. With Tony holding him around the chest, there was no way for him to use the stabilizers. It wouldn't matter until they got closer to Manhattan, but it would be an issue when Tony needed to maneuver.

"You ready for this?" Tony raised his voice so Steve could hear him over the rush of air.

His earpiece was covered by his helmet, but he could barely make out his words. "Yeah," Steve yelled back, his response lost as soon as it left his mouth. Slipping his arm through the leather straps of the shield, Steve forced one hand into the air in front of Tony's helmet with his thumb raised.

He reorganized his hold a second before Tony pushed the suit into overdrive. The force of the wind hit his shield like a freight train going full speed. Steve's biceps bulged as he struggled to keep the vibranium disk in place. It threatened to slam up into him as much as the air tried to drag it out of his hands. Steve considered the fact that it would've been easier for him to leave his arm hooked through the straps, but it was far too late to change positions. The best he could do was hold on.

Pennsylvania was a very short flight from New York by MARK suit, barely thirty minutes, but it felt like a three-hour marathon to Steve. His arms ached and he swore his boots were singed black from Tony's boosters. A loud ringing took up residence in his ear canals after a while, blocking out the roar of the wind. If given this option again, Steve was already thinking he'd take the jet. Flying with Tony probably would've been fun under different circumstances... and at a lower speed.

By the time they slowed into their final approach, Steve couldn't feel his fingers. As they lost speed, the weight of his body dropped so his legs dangled. Steve slid the shield onto one arm and was completely taken aback by the view. They were coming in low toward the east Manhattan bank, the city a wall of lights over the river. It wasn't quite the same through the narrow windows of the quinjet.

"Going to need the hand stabilizers," Tony said in his ear.

Steve had to shout over the wind, but it was easier to do when they weren't flying two-hundred miles an hour. "What do you need me to do?"

A thoughtful hum was all Tony gave him as they flew out over the water. Toward the right side of the island, Steve could see the Chrysler Building, his landmark for the tower. As they got closer, Stark Tower came out from between the skyscrapers like a beacon.

"Tony, what do you-"

"Actually, just stay put, I think I can manage this. It's a pretty straight shot."

Alarm gripped Steve's frame. The skyline loomed closer, coming in fast. Tony was incredibly good at dodging around buildings, but he didn't typically have Steve's weight to compensate for, "Or over. You could just fly over them. You can't go through without the stabilizers, you'll hit something."

"I'm sorry, how long have you been flying?"

"I've flown a plane before-"

"Crashed. You crashed a plane before. Please don't tell me how to fly."

Steve shut his mouth, his jaw clenching. They were both pissed and on edge and Steve knew if one of them didn't stop, they'd be in a full-blown fight before they landed. Steve didn't like to be the one to relent, but arguing with Tony was exhausting and he had bigger things to worry about. An argument only served to distract them now.

As they darted through the buildings, Steve watched the ground for anything out of the ordinary. He seriously doubted The Brotherhood would drag Annika through the streets. It would be too obvious to any outside observer, though an average Joe couldn't stand up to the mutants.

They weren't on level with the penthouse, almost ten stories below it. Steve took a quick mental stock of Tony's thrusters. The ones on his chest were blocked by Steve's back and he couldn't use the hand stabilizers to gain altitude. Steve peered up at their destination, wondering how the hell they were going to get there. His eyes immediately gravitated to the military-class helicopter on the secondary landing pad.

"Tony…"

"I see it."

It didn't have any markings, all of them blacked out with spray paint. The floodlights built around the edge of the balcony brightened the area. Steve didn't see anyone by the helicopter, but he prayed it meant they'd caught the perpetrators in the act. If they could grab even one of them, they could figure out where The Brotherhood had taken Annika.

Tony flew them closer, never gaining any altitude. They were a few blocks away, the building looming in front of them. Their reflections grew in the glass until Steve drew his shield across his body in case they slammed into the side.

At the last second, Tony cut power to his thrusters. Steve's stomach levitated up into his throat. He'd made a lot of long falls, but they were over a thousand feet above the street. Still drifting toward the tower as they dropped, Steve estimated they would hit a few yards from the door. His fingers closed over the arm of Tony's suit and held tight, his breathing quickening as the ground rushed to meet them. People stopped on the sidewalk, curious faces turned up to watch.

Tony tightened his grip on Steve's chest, bringing his legs forward around Steve. Twenty stories from the cement, he reengaged the thrusters at the new angle and shot into the sky. Floors flashed by like support beams in a subway tunnel. They got back to the top in a matter of seconds, Steve seriously rethinking getting in a plane, or anything else capable of flight, ever again.

Tony released him over the balcony, Steve dropping into a crouch with his shield raised. He approached the helicopter quickly, eyes scanning for any movement. His boots crunched on glass from one of the bay windows. It littered the gray slate walkway in shards, spread all the way to the broken guardrail. Steve glanced over the edge of the balcony to the dark courtyard below before he continued.

Behind him, he heard Tony clank down on the pressure sensor of the smaller landing pad. "Don't you dare take off that suit until we've cleared the area," Steve growled without looking back at his husband.

Tony responded dryly, "I do have a few ounces of common sense, darling." The sound of Tony's boots moved from right to left, much quieter since the new suit wasn't metal. As Steve got to the helicopter, he heard the balcony door click shut and Tony's footsteps were gone.

Steve glided around the nose of the helicopter and turned into the open belly with his pulse thrumming in his ears. His eyes flit across the cargo netting and empty personnel benches. A smear of dark gore drew his gaze across the floor to the two-seater cockpit, but there was no one at the controls.

In case their enemies tried to leave the same way they came in, Steve grabbed the control stick and pulled. It resisted momentarily and then the bolts at the floor sheared off and it broke free. Steve tossed it into the co-pilot's chair. He left quickly, wanting to give Tony backup.

"No one on the chopper, they must be inside," Steve reported as he jogged into the tower. "There's blood though."

The tower was in shambles. Steve slowed as he took in the rubble that had once been a bar and the human-sized holes in the walls. He kicked chunks of plaster and tile as he followed Tony through their home.

"Annika!" Tony called, his voice human and terrified. Without the MARK helmet to take the emotion out of his tone, he was just a worried father. A worried father with a hell of a lot of firepower. "Annika, baby, answer me please."

Steve leaned into a jog to catch up, "Tony, put your helmet back on."

They went down the hall to the workshop, Steve reminded of the bomb Scorn left them almost a year ago. The state of the tower brought him to the memory; left him blinking away the images of Tony's horrified face when he realized Iron Man was gone. It was a different kind of fear than what he wore now. Tony's face broke with concern that went beyond him or his ability to fight.

"Annika!" he shouted again, stepping through the husk of the workshop door. A solidified pool of liquid glass spread on either side of the frame. Tony didn't seem to notice it or the two bodies partially hidden by the workshop benches. Steve took stock of them in a glance. Dead, with obvious bullet holes, but there could be more.

Steve grabbed his husband's arm, "Tony! Stop. Put on the damn mask or I'll do it for you."

Still exposed, Tony fixed him with raw, wounded eyes, "They're not here. They've already got her. We're fucking superheroes and we couldn't protect our little girl! What the hell is wrong with this picture?"

Tony's volume rose with each word until he was screaming. The hurt went up in a flash of rage and the repulsors in Tony's hands heated as he turned. Before Steve could stop him, bursts of white-hot energy leapt from his palms. Tony shot the painting of Iron Man. Blackened bits of frame and wall scattered over the workshop. Tony whirled and blasted two computer monitors off his desk.

Shouting, Steve restrained Tony's wrists and forced his hands toward the ceiling. Another blast seared past Steve's shoulder, crashing into a light fixture. Sparks filled the air. "This isn't helping," Steve said, the statement balanced on the edge of a shout.

Tony's hands curled as the repulsors went dark, his gaze going to the floor. Steve could see the blame taking root in his husband's mind. It was one thing Tony wore more often than his expensive suits or his loud band shirts, blame. With Steve, Tony seemed to have cut back on all the self-loathing he wallowed in before the soldier came into his life, but it was still there and Steve knew it would always be there. It was hard to scrub out habits that were ingrained in childhood.

Steve released Tony's wrists, moving his hands up to cup his face, "We'll find her. It's not your-"

"Fault?" Tony lifted his eyes and Steve's chest tightened at the tears threatening the billionaire's long lashes. "No, you're right. It's not my fault I left her alone. It's not my fault I left her with Banner when-"

Tony's words died and their expressions widened with shock simultaneously. Steve went to the closest monitor that Tony hadn't destroyed, remembering at the last moment that the AI could project what he wanted on most of the surfaces in the room, "Jarvis, locate Banner. Is he still in the tower?" The last thing they needed was the Hulk rampaging around New York. Again.

"Locating now."

Steve held his breath.

"Dr. Banner is currently two levels below you, sir. He is… not himself and is causing massive amounts of damage to the structure. I would recommend his immediate removal," Jarvis said and uploaded the video feed into the monitor.

The Hulk's rage filled the screen. He'd gotten as far as his lab. Broken equipment strew the room like metal confetti, smashed under Banner's feet until the pieces of high tech equipment were just pennies someone put on a train track. The lab was completely gutted. Two of the walls had been knocked over, revealing that the neighboring labs got the same treatment. Steve suspected most of research and development had been destroyed.

Steve straightened, "Tony, we need to…" He trailed off when he noticed his husband wasn't at his elbow watching the feed with him. The other man was in the MARK bay, staring down at his scattered Iron Man suits. A frown pulled at Steve's mouth. "Didn't you implement new security measures for the safes?"

Scattered though the suits were, it looked to Steve like it was all there. He certainly was no genius mechanical engineer, but when there wasn't anything missing, he didn't get why that was a priority.

"Hulk's rampaging downstairs, we need to-"

Tony stepped back from the security pad, his face unreadable, "Annika was the last one in."

"Why is that important right-"

"Jarvis, replay what you just showed me. Use the projectors."

Blue, digital ghosts filled the MARK bay. Armor stood to attention in the cases, shadows of the security doors hovering in front of them. Steve gasped when a life-sized Annika darted past him and into the alcove. Jarvis's projectors captured her fear too well. Steve had to curl his hand into a fist at his side to keep from reaching out to comfort her. Her image smeared through the pieces of MARK on the floor, ruining the illusion.

"Tony…" He started to say he didn't want to see this. He'd rather go find her and hunt down the people that put that expression on her soft face.

"Watch."

Annika's shadow backed into the wall, right beside where Tony currently stood. His new armor absorbed the bright blue light and gave nothing back. Never once did Tony twitch as the projection pressed into the wall like it could absorb her. Suddenly, her posture changed. Annika's fear vanished, but nothing replaced it. Her features went blank and her chin dropped toward her chest.

Before Steve could ask what was happening to her, the projected safe doors lifted and the ghostly MARKs twitched. Their chest ports lit up with unknown power, their eyes blinking white. As they stepped off their platforms, the images flickered and faded. All that remained were the empty shells, a startling reminder that what he'd watched was real.

"I'm afraid that was the moment my connection to the tower arc was broken," Jarvis apologized, actually sounding sorry.

Steve's heart bucked in his chest when Annika disappeared. He had to analyze what he'd just seen. Their daughter had more power than either of them anticipated. Before all this, she was at her most impressive when she was building a new machine in the seat next to Tony. She'd controlled the toaster, not something as complex as an army of MARK suits.

"What's that mean?" Steve finally asked.

With a portion of the lights either burned out or blown out overhead, darkness mottled the workshop. Tony stood half in shadow once the projection was gone. The glow of the arc highlighted part of Tony's jaw and cheekbone, but left the rest of his face hidden. For the first time in a long time, Steve couldn't tell what he was thinking. His silence sent acid up the back of Steve's throat. Steve was so certain Tony was okay with their little girl being a mutant, but what if he was wrong?

"Tony?" he whispered.

Tony turned away, weaving slowly around a workbench. He paused and crouched down. Steve couldn't tell what he was doing until he saw Dummy's arm strut crest the side of the table. The robot trundled to the entrance of the shop, the arm and claw hand extending through the broken door to look around.

"Tony, talk to me."

Stooping again, Tony sat up spinning one of the classic MARK helmets in his hands. The red and gold flashed and drew Steve's eye. "They were right," Tony said as he set the helm on his desk.

Steve shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Who was right?"

"Xavier's people. They were right. I don't even know how to begin to teach her to control that. She diverted the energy from the tower arc. The amount of tech that would be required, but she didn't have…" Tony's face clouded and Steve recognized the wrinkle forming in his brow and the pensive, downward curve of his mouth. Tony lapsed so deep in thought sometimes that nothing existed around him. It didn't bode well for Annika.

Stomach lining burning, Steve opened his mouth to argue. He couldn't let Tony give up on her. Not when he was the one who treated her like she was his blood. No matter how extreme her power was, she was theirs.

Tony kept talking, "We're going to need help. Maybe we should move out to Xavier's school, get her out of the city. No boarding though. I hated boarding school and I'm not doing that to her."

Relief saturated Steve's exhale. It earned him a look from Tony. "I thought… I thought you were going to send her away," Steve admitted.

"Are you fucking nuts?" Tony growled, exasperated and incredulous. He rolled his eyes and picked up the black, graphene helmet. "Come on, we've got to go deal with Banner before he brings the whole tower down."

They hurried through the skyscraper, Tony talking to Jarvis while Steve talked to Fury. It was an organized stream of orders and requests for information. Tony told Jarvis to package up the raw data from the security feed and send it over to SHIELD as soon as Steve promised their director something to work with.

"And have him contact Xavier, he can be scanning with Cerebro," Tony added as a roar echoed up the stairwell.

They broke into a run, Steve exchanging the suggestion, "Finding Annika will lead us to Magneto. Have Xavier-"

"We're already on it, Captain," Fury assured him. "The others are getting close to your position. Don't let Banner get out into the street. He needs to be your focus right now."

Steve jumped the banister into the open center of the stairwell, dropping the two stories to the Hulk's location. "Copy that," he grunted into the radio as he caught the rail. It bent outward, but Steve was over before it could break. He landed nimbly on his feet, punching his override codes into the keypad.

As if in afterthought, Fury said, "I'll tell you as soon as we find something."

The air behind him shimmered with heat as Tony followed his shortcut. Ducking under the landing, Tony glided over the rail and cut the power to his thrusters. The lighter suit didn't make as much noise as it touched down, but Steve still waited until Tony was on the cement before he eased the door open. The longer Hulk went without knowing they were there, the better off they'd be.

When he saw the area was clear, Steve slipped through. He kept his voice low, avoiding using military hand motions Tony might not know the meaning of, "Cut around through the labs. I'll use the main hall to get in front of him. We should converge-"

Tony's faceplate turned in Steve's direction, the glowing eyes unimpressed. "We don't have time for this," Tony stated, the speaker amplifying his words.

Steve winced and glared at him, "Use your interior headset. Turn that damn thing off."

Something crashed deeper in the lab, followed by another snuffling growl. Hulk wasn't moving very quickly by the sounds of things and Steve hoped that meant he'd worn through most of his anger. They still had to approach with caution. There was no telling how quickly he could get spoiled up again. Steve tried to say as much, but Tony pushed past him and went down the main hall.

Steve's mouth tightened. Sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to take his impulsive spouse over his knee. He knew it wouldn't adjust Tony's behavior, the other man would probably enjoy it, knowing him, but it didn't stop Steve from wanting to reprimand him in SOME way that would make him listen. Words never seemed to do anything. Of course, raising a hand to him wouldn't be any better and Steve couldn't deal with Tony's shame-induced hatred.

"Get back here," Steve hissed.

Tony didn't turn or even slow, "Bruce isn't some kind of animal that needs to be cornered and wrangled."

When Tony kept moving, Steve cussed and went with him. He was married to the most stubborn man alive. He did have that knowledge going in, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. "We need to be careful about this. You know how fast he can lose his awareness and attack whatever's closest," Steve reached for Tony's arm, his fingers closing on empty air when Tony pulled it forward.

They had to climb over an electrical cabinet wedged in the middle of the hall. Tony gave a quick shot of boosters to put him on the other side while Steve hopped and slid over the waist-high hunk of scrap. When Tony hit the ground, Hulk slammed out into the hall with a roar. Steve lifted his shield on instinct and lunged forward to help Tony.

Tony was right, the Hulk did understand them. Steve knew well enough that Hulk could be aimed, that he was intelligent enough to separate friend from foe when he fought, but he was also incredibly unpredictable when he was out of control. He'd turn and smash one of them before he even realized they were teammates. Tony was willing to take the risk and stand right in his path, but Steve couldn't play those odds.

Hulk roared again, eyes fixed on them as saliva flicked off his teeth. He crashed through the hall like a train that jumped its tracks. As the mass of muscle and rage barreled toward them, Steve grabbed Tony around the chest and rolled their bodies away. His shield came up, the only barrier they had.

Tony jerked his helmet off and yelled, "Bruce! Stop, it's us!"

At the sudden silence, Steve risked a glance over his shield. Hulk loomed over them, chest heaving and shoulders bulging from exertion. Recognition flit across his face. His snarl faded and his expression softened with something that resembled grief. Steve let Tony break away from him when he knew Hulk was calm.

"Gone," Hulk huffed, the word so low it sounded more like a growl.

Tony walked over and pat the giant's arm. He had to crane his neck to look up at Hulk's face, leaving his palm on the tough, green skin, "I know, buddy. We're going to get her back. Why don't you sit down and watch some cartoons until we know where they've gone?"

Steve went rigid when a green, meaty hand closed around Tony's waist. Hulk lifted Iron Man easily with one arm, brining him up to eye level. It sent Steve's adrenaline surging. Any sudden move, the slightest provoking, could turn into Tony getting crushed between those hands like a tin can. Nerves crackling, Steve went up onto the balls of his feet while he fought the urge to rush in and pry Tony loose.

"Be calm," Tony said, though Steve wasn't sure whether it was directed at him or Banner. Probably both. "It'll be okay, big guy."

Thrumming with concern, Steve stayed where he was, "Tony…"

Every ounce the psychotically bold hero Steve knew him to be, Tony wasn't even sweating. His feet dangled high above the floor, but his face was completely neutral. At this point, Steve wasn't sure if it was the easy-going mask he knew Tony could put on with remarkable speed, or if Tony really did trust Banner that far.

Hulk looked Tony in the eye when he rumbled, "Hulk sorry."

Tony smiled, the line of his lips traced with sadness, "I forgive you, but I need you to let Bruce take over so we can hunt these bastards down, okay?"

"He can't just go in and out like that-"

Hulk roared in Tony's face at the suggestion, his breath rustling the genius's hair. Tony clenched his eyes shut. A drop of spit landed on Tony's cheek, but he didn't move to wipe it away. Steve took a step and bared his teeth. They fringed on sending Hulk spiraling into another rage and Steve knew he'd never get Tony away from him before Banner killed him.

Tony put his hand out in Steve's direction, fingers spread. Stay there, his motion begged. Steve nearly roared too. He hated this. Every serum enhanced muscle in his body was coiled hard and waiting for an opening, an order, anything.

When the Hulk went quiet, Tony tried a different tactic, "If we can't find them, we can't smash them. No one can find them faster than Banner. I need him so we can all get even." Hulk snorted and tightened his grip on Tony's waist. Steve didn't see any pain cross Tony's face, but the billionaire lifted his head and put both hands on Hulk's wrist, "As soon as we find them, you'll get to come out again, okay? You can smash all of them, just let me have Banner for a few hours, deal?"

The curl of Hulk's thick lip lowered. He studied Tony, clearly thinking very hard about the offer. While Banner was a genius, Hulk didn't have the luxury of an IQ in the high one-sixties. It took him a long time to decide. "Deal," he growled before setting Tony on his feet.

Steve somehow managed not to grab Tony and pull him into the biggest bear hug. Instead, he put his hand on his back and watched Hulk start to shrink. It usually only happened when the man was unconscious or sleeping, so it was a little strange to see him moving as he crunched back into a more normal size.

The Hulk's growls faded into Banner's pained groan and the dark-haired man staggered. His hand automatically went for the waistband of his ragged pants even though they'd fallen off long before he made a grab at them. The other hand went out to stabilize himself and Tony reached up to take his arm at the elbow.

"Hey, hey, you're okay," Tony murmured to the shaking doctor.

Banner blinked stupidly at them for a moment, confusion dominating his features. Looking between Steve's tense frame and Tony's comforting smile, he asked, "What happened? Did I crush anyone… why am I standing?"

"One thing at time. First, pants, then we'll talk," Tony told him, patting his shoulder lightly.

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TBC…


	11. Search and Destroy

A/N – So, I know many of you were wondering where the hell I went. Let me apologize, first, I hate making anyone wait this long for an update. On the other hand, Christmas is hell when you work retail. Now that it's over, I should be able to dedicate plenty of time to finishing this. It's only two more chapters (I think), so it should be coming to a close soon.

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No one heard the Blackbird land on the roof. Tony was a little surprised they even got the Blackbird to fit on the tiny roof, but the landing pad was taken up by the abandoned helicopter and leaving a top-secret stealth jet on the ground was generally a bad idea. When they came upstairs to find the rest of the Avengers and the X-Men in their living room, they broke apart in silent agreement.

Tony took Banner upstairs to get him some clothes while Steve went to brief the others. The doctor was incredibly quiet. Glancing at him occasionally to make sure he was still there, Tony smirked at how Bruce walked with his hands cupped over his privates. They'd all seen Banner naked. The man spontaneously grew out of his pants, they'd seen him normal naked and gigantic green naked. Tony wasn't sure why he was still so modest, except that it was Banner and the man was nothing if not shy.

"How'd you get… the other guy to… let go?" Bruce mumbled, keeping his gaze on the floor.

Knowing Banner didn't keep anything in his room at the tower, Tony led him to the master suite. Jarvis tactfully tinted the windows as the lights came up. "I sort of made a deal with him," Tony hesitated to tell him, not sure Bruce would be okay with that.

Tony and Thor seemed to be the only ones who liked Hulk. Not even Banner liked him and the green creature was part of him. There was a certain understanding between Thor and Hulk, a strange, battle-based friendship. Tony was pretty sure Thor admired the big creature's massive strength and actually enjoyed getting in scuffs with him. To the demi-god, having a little tussle with the Hulk was like arm wrestling to see who was toughest.

Tony, on the other hand, understood Hulk. At least, he thought he understood Hulk. The big guy wasn't difficult to understand, he was just Banner on steroids. The theory was that Banner had a split personality, but Tony had a sneaking suspicion that Hulk really was Banner. Being shot up with that much adrenaline and at the mercy of his hypothalamus, it was impossible not to rage. No matter how calm someone was, offsetting their brain chemistry would turn them into something else.

"Made a deal? What kind of deal?"

Hearing an edge of anger in his voice, Tony didn't look up from separating a pair of his sweatpants out from the dresser, "It wasn't anything crazy. I promised him he'd get to come out in play when we found Magneto in exchange for him letting me have you for a couple of hours."

"He can't be reasoned with. And you shouldn't even try. What were you thinking, Tony? What if I'd crushed you?! Or thrown you?! Or-"

"Knock it off," Tony growled, throwing the gray sweatpants at him. He closed the drawer a bit forcefully, shaking the frameless mirror on the wall above the dresser. "You sit with me and watch SpongeBob Squarepants when our missions are over, I'm pretty sure Hulk isn't going to squash me."

Banner stared at him, a loose curl of hair falling into his eyes, "What?"

Tony motioned at the pants in Bruce's hand, "You going to put those on? I mean, I like hairy guys as much as the next person, but I'm kind of taken."

Flushing crimson, Banner stumbled into the legs of the sweats and hiked them on. His stutter gave Tony the perfect opening to tease him, but he didn't feel much like joking around, "Wh-what are you talking about? We don't watch cartoons."

"WE don't, Hulk and I do. Best way I've found to calm you down. Jarvis has all of SpongeBob and Fairly Odd Parents recorded, those two are your favorites."

"I... I don't really know what to say to that..." Banner snapped his fingers and slapped his palm over the side of his fist, a nervous action he used when he was at a loss for words but couldn't gracefully bow out of a conversation. His dark eyes narrowed at Tony thoughtfully. It wasn't often Tony escorted Bruce to get pants. He didn't coddle anyone on the team, so Tony knew Bruce was trying to figure it out.

"You're bleeding again, aren't you?" Bruce asked flatly.

He really was going to sit down with Bruce one day and challenge him to a battle of wits. The man had a keen intuition to go along with his brains. Tony flashed a thin smile, "Yeah, think so."

"Chest or shoulder?"

"Just shoulder... I hope." Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Tony could feel the throb under his armor. Every move sent a needle of pain all the way to his spine. The armor was internally cooled with liquid tubing that ran through a durable layer of cloth. Since he'd taken the hit, it had been working overtime to keep the swelling down in his shoulder. In the quiet of the room, Tony could hear the soft hum of the refrigerant system.

Bruce stopped fidgeting and crossed his arms over his hairy chest, "I'm going to throw this out there again, not that it'll do any good, but I'm not a medical doctor."

"Will you just-"

"I'm a nuclear physicist, Tony."

"You're the only PH D I have on hand," it was the closest Tony would come to pleading. SHIELD's airship was too far to fly to considering he was getting lightheaded and a regular hospital wouldn't know what to do with the reactor.

Bracing his elbow in one palm, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

When he didn't answer, Tony wheedled him, "They're just stitches. Considering you handled opening up my chest earlier, I think-"

"Fine," Banner sighed. "Fine." Letting his arms drop to his sides, he motioned toward the bathroom and led the way, "But I suspect you'll want to do this on the tile so you can clean it up before Steve sees it." They didn't go two steps before Bruce turned on him.

Tony stopped when Bruce stopped, surprised at the hard look the doctor gave him, "Yeah... yeah, I don't want to worry him."

"You don't want him to hold you back."

The muscle in Tony's jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth. When Steve found out about the new arc and how bad the damage to his shoulder really was, he'd insist Tony sit out. He couldn't do that. Not with Annika on the line. Nothing would destroy him faster than sitting at home waiting for news when he could be on the front lines with the others.

Tony pushed past him into the bathroom, his hands going to release latches on the sides of the chest plate, "You going to help me?"

Banner's fingers tapped a broken rhythm on his leg, his mouth twitching as he considered. His analytical gaze went to Tony's torso as he peeled away the layers of armor. There was a wet sound, like prying apart two pieces of paper before the glue dried, and then Tony felt a hot trail of blood run down his bicep. His ZZ Top shirt was soaked all the way to the arc, but as far as he could tell, none of it was from his chest. The red convertible from the band's album blended with the rest of the fabric now.

Bruce broke out of his thoughts and went for the medical kit Steve kept in the cabinet above the towels. Tony wasn't sure how he knew it was there, but it was the least of his concerns. "He'd be right to keep you behind," Bruce muttered as he shook two towels off the stack.

One towel he laid out on the floor beside the toilet when he motioned for Tony to sit down, the other he wrapped under Tony's armpit and tied above his shoulder. Tony let the worried doctor guide him to the lowered toilet seat, his armor clacking on the plastic surface. At Bruce's urging, he put pressure on the wound to slack the bleeding.

Bruce knelt to spread the contents of the medical kit on the towel by Tony's feet, "You need to rest after this."

"I'll rest when Annika is home."

Before he opened any sterile packaging, Banner went to the sink to wash his hands. He scrubbed all the way up to his elbows, his arm hair laying in frothy swirls. As he scrubbed under his nails, Bruce asked, "How long was I... him?" His eyes caught Tony in the mirror, just as worried as the doctor always was after a change.

Tony shrugged and immediately regretted the action, "Less than an hour. You didn't miss much."

Banner came over as he dried his hands, shuffling while he stared thoughtfully at the floor. Tony raised a brow at him. Before he could ask, Banner noticed the question written on his face and spoke, "Why haven't we seen any of the abominations? Considering how much work she'd already done, they should've hit midtown by now."

"Should've..."

"And yet, nothing. Aside from recruitment and taking Annika, they haven't really done much of anything. From what I understand of Erik Lensherr, his work tends to be big and dramatic, but I feel like we're missing something."

Tony frowned and considered Bruce's words. He was right. The brain behind the Brotherhood replaced the torch on the Statue of Liberty so he could mutate an event full of world leaders. The man was hardly subtle. There hadn't been any news from Fury about an attack, in this country or any other. It didn't make any sense.

Throw Raisa into that mix and Tony wasn't sure what would come out. She was the definition of underhanded. If she was more involved in their plans than providing the muscle, then the Brotherhood could've made their play already. On the other hand, now that Raisa had her daughter, there was no telling whether she'd even stick with Magneto. Tony knew she'd do anything to get her daughter, but once she had Annika, she could very well be dust in the wind. That made Tony more nervous than anything else did.

"Well, you're not wrong," Tony mumbled while he processed the possibilities.

When he saw Bruce threading the needle, Tony stuck the bottom hem of his shirt between his teeth to hold it out of the way. It doubled as a gag in case Banner hit something sensitive while he was stitching. He didn't need Steve barreling upstairs to find Bruce sewing him shut. The soldier might kill both of them… or at least yell and gripe. That was bad enough.

Soaked red, the compress hit the floor with a wet slap. As Tony lifted the shirt off his wound, the old stitches clung to the cotton fibers. Tony did a quick count, three of them ripped out and two others looked close to doing the same. Blood oozed through the split seam, thankfully crawling now instead of flowing.

Tony reached out in either direction, gripping the doorjamb for the closet in one hand and the rim of the Jacuzzi tub in the other. He nodded to Bruce once he'd braced himself. Stitches without anesthesia were really low on his list of things he wanted to repeat. He'd done it once before, but at least everything was cleaner this time. Tony did note, with a sense of grief, that Bruce's hands were just as steady as Yinsen's.

"You sure you want to-"

Tony glared at him and Bruce shut his mouth. Instead of arguing, the doctor swiped the blood away from the wound and disinfected it. Armed with a pair of tweezers and the needle, Banner traded old stitches for new. Tony ground his teeth on the cloth, thinking he was probably chewing holes in his shirt. Every noise he made came out through his nose, muffled, but not absent. His toes curled inside his boots and he gripped his handholds until his fingers ached.

Once he was done, Bruce dabbed the wound with antiseptic gel and covered it with fresh gauze, "If you keep getting back in the suit, you're going to rip it open again."

Tony let the cloth out of his mouth and gave a shaky exhale, "Save it."

Gathering his wits after a moment, Tony shed what was left of his armor and went into the closet for clean clothes. He pushed the bloody shirt into a trash chute, the dirty jeans into the laundry chute, and stuck his sneakers in their respective slot on his wall of shoes. The floor to ceiling built-in storage was three-quarters his stuff. Steve had four pairs of shoes in the bottom, right hand corner, all Tony could ever convince him to buy. Between that and the single rod of clothing the soldier maintained, Tony didn't get how the man survived. Tony had more band shirts than all of Steve's tops, pants, uniforms, socks, and underwear combined.

It took patience and more care than he would've liked to get into a new t-shirt. Everything ached. Tony tried to avoid examining his many purple-black bruises in the full-length mirror, but his shoulder sent out a throbbing SOS every time he moved it. At least putting on jeans didn't give him too much trouble.

Looking relatively normal again, Tony came out to find that Banner had taken care of their workspace. All the blood was gone and so were the used tools. The bathroom was pristine. Banner put the towel back after washing his hands a second time and they went downstairs. Tony ignored the doctor's worried glances. He was fine; he didn't feel like he needed to keep reiterating that fact.

The living room looked like a forward operating base. Tony was amazed they'd gotten so much equipment set up in such a short period of time. There were several laptops hooked up into the walls for access to Jarvis, some of Tony's functioning computers from the lab had made it to a folding table by the remnants of his bar, even the television displayed some sort of monitoring system. Tony figured SHIELD had shown up with all of this, but the only people in the living room were Avengers or X-Men.

Steve stood near the bar, arms crossed over his chest, talking to Cyclops. Clint and Natasha were working three computers between them, sitting close enough on the couch that their legs touched. Barton had his earpiece in and had someone from SHIELD on the line. On Nat's screen, a search algorithm flew through its paces. While it ran, she focused on the other screen and SHIELD's deep database.

While Thor and Bobby moved the shattered pieces of stone and tile out of the workspace, Rogue darted around with a large push broom Tony wasn't aware they owned. Farther down a ripped up hallway that used to lead to the stairwell, Wolverine scented the air, his nose wrinkling. He crouched and touched something wet on the floor. Whatever it was, it coated his fingers, thick and dark.

Banner sat on the couch beside Clint and looked over their search program while Tony went to Steve. Deep blue eyes tracked him as he came around the couch. Though Tony tried to radiate calm, inside he was an absolute mess. He wanted to take the MARK out to whatever hole the Brotherhood had bunked down in and blow them all to kingdom come.

Under that, he was terrified. They might not find Annika. They might not see her again. It made him nauseous but made him want to down a pint of scotch at the same time. If his bar wasn't an absolute mess, he'd pick through it until he found a tumbler and enough liquor to drown him.

Either sensing his mood, or just sharing it, Steve wrapped an arm around his waist the moment he was close enough. The soldier cupped the side of his face and kissed his forehead. Tony closed his eyes at the touch of his husband's lips, Steve kissing both lids once they were shut, "We'll find her. If we have to go to the ends of the earth, we'll find her."

Tony nodded mutely. When he pulled back, he had to clear his throat before he could speak. His words sounded thick, "What are we doing now?"

"Using the data from Jarvis, Fury's people have been able to identify almost all of the mutants who showed up here…" Steve started.

Cyclops jumped in, "Our focus is Azazel. Xavier caught the moment he entered the tower, but he wasn't able to track his second teleport-"

"So… we don't know where he is. How is that helpful?" Tony raised an eyebrow, but felt Steve give him a little squeeze. The soldier didn't have to say anything out loud, Tony knew what he meant: Be nice.

Completely unaffected by the statement, Cyclops took them into the breakfast room, "It actually means more than you realize. From working with Azazel and his son, Nightcrawler, Xavier knows the limits of their teleportation. They can't cross the entire country in a single flash and they certainly can't evade the professor while they leapfrog around. If he didn't show up again after he transported, then he's within a thirty-mile radius of Manhattan."

There were three maps spread out on the kitchen table. Jarvis had graciously digitized the one of the city itself and projected a miniature version in three dimensions across the floor. Storm circled it thoughtfully, tapping a red pen to her chin. The paper maps were marked up with the pen, notes scribbled on the thin, white edges. Each one had a circumference noting the edge of Azazel's abilities.

Brain already cranking, Tony talked his way through his thought process, "Considering the metal required to block Cerebro, we can eliminate anything built after nineteen-twenty..." He went to the hologram, "Jarvis, eliminate all buildings constructed after the twenties. Start downloading any construction contracts you can find and tell me where the paper copies are located if they aren't digital."

As newer skyscrapers vanished from the digital skyline, Steve went for the paper maps, "Do you think they're in Manhattan proper? Warehouses might be a good place to start."

"Might be," Tony mused.

A vast majority of Manhattan was built before the twenties. Tony knew that, but seeing how many structures remained, he knew he'd have to find more parameters.

"Jarvis, eliminate the buildings that have been renovated since nineteen fifty, interior must be included. And search for any structure that has been updated to match specifications for Lensherr's helmet. Cross-reference SHIELD database for the specs."

As the computer worked, Tony tapped the Chrysler Building to highlight the wireframe in yellow. He dismissed it with a flick of his hand. There were a few structures he could eliminate with simple common sense, but there were millions of buildings in all of New York City. Impossible wasn't a word he often used. With so many hiding places and so few variables to work with, Tony considered it a useful descriptor.

Storm circled the projection, hands going to her hips, "It is likely Magneto will avoid the densely populated areas. His people do not believe in blending in, they do not hide well."

"And they'll need space for Golovin's lab," Steve slashed through buildings with his pen and Jarvis updated the digital map to reflect his changes. "Tony, how big would you say her warehouse was?"

"Bigger than anything in Manhattan."

"So maybe we're looking for something with multiple floors," Cyclops offered.

Tony rolled his eyes up from the projection, his brow twitching, "Everything in New York has multiple floors, even the parking lots."

Without a proper view of his face, it was difficult to tell the extent of the mutant's reaction. His lips pressed together and his posture changed, his stance going stiff, "Look, Mr. Stark, we're here to help. We don't need you to-"

"Who started him on that speech?" Wolverine groaned as he entered the room. He clapped a hand on Cyclops's shoulder, hard enough to throw the taller man off balance. "Untangle your panties, Scott."

The specially designed visor turned in Logan's direction, hiding the heat of Scott's glare.  
It had no effect on Wolverine. The burly mutant lifted his chin in Steve's direction, "Hope your director has a disposal team, you've got six dead mutants in your house and one of them is crushed against a ceiling. Going to need an ice scraper for that one."

"Why did you feel the need to share that last bit?" The corner of Steve's mouth pulled off to the side and he gave Wolverine an annoyed look.

"Posterity," Wolverine deadpanned as he leaned over the maps.

"Next time, keep it to yourself."

"Well, if he peels off and falls on somebody, you're going to wish I'd said something."

Tony expected Steve to launch into reprimanding the X-Man for his attitude, but the soldier closed his mouth and let it go. Cyclops laid into him instead, which was as effective as throwing snowballs at a bonfire. The rest of them went back to work as the pair left the room, Wolverine sauntering casually while Cyclops barked at his heels.

There was something vaguely comfortable about their behavior, like the actual outcome of their fight wouldn't matter because their relationship wouldn't change. Tony had those fights with Steve all the time.

Shaking it easily, Tony eliminated two more buildings and crouched to study what was left. Before he could get any farther, Bruce slipped around the breakfast table. He'd found a shirt somewhere, a knit tee with 'You Have My Bow' printed on the front in scrawling, old-fashioned letters. Tony didn't need to consider the fit to know it was one of Clint's.

The doctor dropped down next to Tony and balanced on the balls of his feet, "You need to get some rest. Every bit of man power on both teams and SHIELD are looking for them, they can spare you."

Tony's eyes snapped to Bruce, then up to Steve to see if he'd heard. His husband was still discussing the side notes with Storm, but that didn't mean anything. Steve could process three conversations at once and remember the details of each. Damn super-soldier hearing...  
"Not until we find her," Tony reminded him in a low voice.

Sighing, Bruce lingered a moment as if he was waiting for Tony to change his mind, then he got to his feet, "Suit yourself."

He moved like he was headed to the door, then touched Steve's elbow to get his attention. Tony watched with a sinking feeling in his guts as they talked quietly. There was no doubt what Banner told the Captain when Steve's face darkened and he looked over at Tony with something close to rage. Internally, Tony shrank down to the size of a Chihuahua, but he flippantly snarked at Banner, "You're a big, green traitor. We watch SpongeBob together, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Bruce shrugged, "It's for your own good."

"Surgery?! And you didn't tell me?" As Steve stomped over, Tony swore he got bigger. Though, it might've had something to do with Tony being crouched so low.

"It wasn't a big deal-"

"It was a big deal," Bruce said to put him in a deeper hole. "When I have to put you on an IV after surgery, it's a big deal. You need to rest."

Tony stood, hating how Steve towered over him when he knew he was in the wrong. On the other side of the table, Storm glanced around the three men before slipping through the door. Bruce followed her out and left Tony alone with his angry husband. He had his reasons for keeping Steve in the dark, but they always seemed so insignificant once Steve found whatever he was hiding. When the others were gone, Tony lost his bravado. He was too tired to keep up appearances. His shoulders sagged and his gaze went to his shoes, picking over the pattern of his laces.

"I-"

Cutting him off with a curt, "No," that wasn't a shout but sent Tony into a flinch anyway, Steve took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to calm down. "No, no excuses. You should've told me... Is anesthesia really the last time you slept?"

"Damn rat told you everything, didn't he?"

"Look up and answer me."

Tony crossed his arms and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the parental tone. He looked up and griped, "Yes. Anesthesia was the last time I slept, but-"

"No. Stop talking. I want you to go upstairs and sleep. We can handle this." Tony opened his mouth again and Steve all but growled at him, "Tony, no. I know you're worried, I know you want to help, but you've got to get some sleep or you'll be no good to us in the fight. I need you sharp."

Tony could tell Steve was trying to feed his ego a little to get him to acquiesce. It was a tactic that might have worked under different circumstances, but Tony had too much to do. He knew he wouldn't sleep. They both knew he wouldn't sleep. He flicked another building off the digital map, "Jarvis, tell me you have some of the data I asked for."

"I will apply the results I have so far," Jarvis told him as several blocks vanished from the map.

Steve walked through the projection and grabbed Tony around the waist. He barely got a, "Hey!" out before the bigger man tossed him over his shoulder. His stomach landed on Steve's shoulder, knocking the wind out of him. While he caught his breath, Tony considered that Steve was angrier than he anticipated. If he was anything but gentle, he was struggling to control himself. To avoid making it worse, Tony didn't fight. He wanted to, but he was wise enough to know better.

Steve took him through the kitchens instead of parading through the living room and both teams of superheroes. Silently thankful, Tony braced both hands on Steve's back to take some of the pressure off his stomach. Riding on Steve like a recently butchered animal wasn't pleasant. Ten years younger and Tony would think it was sexy. Now, he was thinking more along the lines of needing some aspirin.

"If I swear I'll go straight upstairs and get in bed, will you put me down? Your shoulder is a block of granite and we both know that's not the most comfortable thing to lie on," Tony used a reasonable tone, but was fairly certain Steve was too pissed to listen. When the soldier didn't respond, Tony grumbled instead, "You find out I had surgery and decide carrying me like this is the best idea? Really, Steve?"

The Captain slowed at the stairs and carefully lifted Tony up. With amazing delicacy, he wrapped an arm around Tony's back and leaned him until he could slide the other arm under his knees. The princess hold was no less degrading, but infinitely more bearable. Steve took the stairs two at a time, his stride smooth enough not to jostle Tony. His lover's face was flat, only the tick in his temple betraying his emotional state.

Tony studied the pronounced line of Steve's jaw and the way the muscle jumped at the top of his mandible. When Steve's gaze flicked to his, Tony let his eyes drop away, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. You know why I did it, I don't feel like I need to spend the next three days trying to get back in your good graces. You and I would both step in front of a bullet for Annika, so running on caffeine until she's home is not unreasonable."

Steve clenched his teeth.

"I need to help. I'm not some wilting flower that should be locked away when I'm not doing well. I've fought and won in worse shape than this…" seeing Steve's bright blue eyes harden, Tony shut his mouth with an audible click of teeth. He wasn't defending his cause, he was digging his grave.

Opening the door to their room with his foot, Steve stepped sideways to get Tony through the frame without hitting his head on anything. Tony half-expected Steve to drop him on the bed, but his husband put him down gently on the edge so he was sitting upright. Steve knelt in front of him, catching both wrists and holding them against Tony's knees.

It was a strange position for yelling. Steve tended to stand as tall as physically possible when he was angry with Tony, using every bit of his four inch height advantage to get Tony to back down. It was never a very successful tactic unless Tony was too tired to argue, which was rare.

The hard lines of anger still dominated Steve's features, but when he spoke, his voice was calm, "You're not alone anymore."

Tony's eyes flickered with confusion as he looked down at Steve. He shook his head, mouth opening to question him.

Steve spoke before he could, "When you agreed to marry me and we took our vows, it was a promise that you'd never have to face anything alone. You're a one-man army, Tony. I know that. You can and will do it all. The point is that you don't have to. Let me in. This-" Steve released one wrist to cup his hand over the arc. The faint glow permeated the cloth, glowing mutely between his fingers. "This is just as important to me as it is to you-"

Feeling guilty, Tony's first instinct was to put up his defenses. "Didn't know you plugged into the arc to survive, I'll have to-"

"Stop that," Steve commanded. He gave Tony's arm a light squeeze, "Stop it. I know what you're doing and I'm not going to play that game. This is serious. If something had happened to you when-"

"Nothing was going to happen. You need to give Bruce some fucking credit!" Tony's hands balled into fists and he had to force himself to relax. "None of you trust him! The guy's not always spot on when it comes to making decisions, but he's brilliant and-"

Steve stood, "I'm not questioning Bruce. What I'm saying is-"

"If you keep treating him like he's some kind of threat to us, how are we ever going to expect to keep him? He needs the support of the team. He needs your support as our leader," Tony snapped and stepped around Steve so he wasn't wedged against the bed. He was so tired of everyone treating Bruce like he was some kind of monster. The guy had rage issues, sure, but he'd proven time and again that he was worth more than that. Bruce Banner was not his rage and no one, not a single team member aside from Tony had ever told him as much. Back rigid, Tony paced away from Steve, "I thought you were the first one to see under the surface. Why-"

"Tony, stop. That wasn't what I was saying…"

"Then what was it then?" Tony whirled and stalked back.

The argument filled Steve with tension, made his two-hundred plus block of muscle and patriotism stand straight and tall. It was the 'fight' pose he took when dealing with any kind of confrontation. The blond put his knuckles on his hips, subconsciously increasing his size even more.

When Tony got in his face, Steve lifted his chin, "What is it then? Just because he had to learn to control his abilities instead of being naturally good at everything, he's not trustworthy?"

Steve grabbed his shoulders and pulled Tony against his chest, shocking a yelp out of him. The Captain's gigantic arms wrapped around him, his face nuzzling into the hair behind Tony's ear, "That's not what I was saying. If something did happen, not matter what it was, and I wasn't there… I wouldn't be able to say goodbye. You'd just be gone…"

Tony's heart contracted and held. So much of Steve's world, the people he knew, vanished in a matter of seconds. Tony didn't know if his husband had gotten the chance to tell anyone how much he loved or cared for them. Everything he'd known was snatched away before Steve could do anything about it. Tony didn't have to imagine what that felt like. He remembered the numb emptiness while he sat across from his father's lawyer, listening to him say his parents were dead.

The last thing he'd said to his father was 'Fuck you, old man. I'm not going to be you.' They never got along, but those words would always burn inside him.

Tony slid his hands over Steve's back, "I'm sorry… I didn't… Shit, Steve. It didn't cross my mind."

Steve squeezed him tighter, almost too hard. The ragged edges of his voice ripped at Tony, "Please don't do it again."

"Okay. I won't…"

"I can't lose you like that."

"I know," Tony whispered.

After a few moments of silence, Steve picked him up and put him back in bed. When Steve undid the button and fly on his jeans, Tony lifted his hips so he could slide them off. Denim slapped on the carpet a second after Steve tossed them. The bed dipped with the soldier's weight as he braced a knee on the mattress to lean over and kiss Tony. Lips parting at the warm touch, Tony brushed his thumb over Steve's jaw. Their eyes mingled when Steve drew away.

Sensing he was about to be tucked in and left for the night, Tony mentioned, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep. I don't care how tired I am, she's out there. I don't know if she's safe. I don't know if she's hurt… I can't just drift off no matter how many times you tell me to sleep. If you want me to rest, fine, but at least let me do something from bed."

"I think you should try and sleep," Steve said, though he sounded hesitant.

Seeing the opportunity for what it was, Tony pressed, "I can feed Jarvis data from up here. He'll update the map for you and I won't have to leave bed. It's a win-win."

A decision formed in Steve's expression and Tony could feel himself sliding backwards down the slope he'd be trying to climb. This wasn't going to go in his favor. In a last ditch effort, Tony added, "Plus, if I stay in bed while I work, I'll probably drift off after a while."

Steve shook his head and crawled in beside Tony. "You know that's not going to happen," he said, nudging Tony onto his side so he could spoon him. Steve's bigger body curled around him, his right hand flattening out over Tony's chest. "I'll make sure you get to sleep."

Tony knew this tactic too well. Steve had figured out a long time ago that simply holding Tony still for any length of time could get him to drift off. It was a matter of stopping Tony's forward momentum. Once Tony ran out of energy, he could keep going on the progress he'd already made. When Steve held him until he had no other choice, he'd eventually lose all his steam.

"Come on, Steve. Don't do this. Let me up, let me help," Tony flung his arms out and grabbed the edge of the mattress. He dug his fingers in, pulling against the hand on his chest. His bad shoulder screamed at the effort and he dropped against Steve with a wince.

He felt Steve shift behind him and lean away. Before he could take advantage of the distraction, Steve was back, holding Tony tight against him. "Sit still," Steve said and rubbed the pectoral on the right of the reactor. His thumb made small circles in the muscle.

There was a faint click of a lube container Tony knew extremely well and he felt Steve part his ass cheeks. Craning his neck over his shoulder, Tony scolded him, "This is hardly the time for that. I'm not in the mood, Steve."

"Hush," Steve whispered before pressing his slick, middle finger into Tony. Lips touched the back of Tony's neck, "Relax for me."  
Another finger slid against the puckered entrance and Tony clenched tighter to keep him out, "No. Steve, seriously-"

"You know you sleep better after you orgasm. Relax, babe," Steve encouraged in soft tones.

The finger inside him curved at the end, seeking out his prostate. Tony's arguments died in a soft moan. His body opened enough for Steve to get another finger in, his pleased writhing belying his complaints. The calluses roughing the edge of Steve's finger pad caught on Tony's sensitive patch of skin. Thighs trembling, Tony lifted one leg up so Steve would have better access. He earned a chuckle for it.

"I still don't think it's the time for this," Tony said through gritted teeth, trying to hide how much he was enjoying it.

Steve's exhale heated his cheek, "It's not, I know." He squeezed Tony with one arm, his chin coming to rest on Tony's shoulder. Fingers working in and out slowly, Steve pressed his lips to Tony's cheekbone. "We'll find her. We will," Steve promised, his voice tight.

Tony clenched his eyes shut. Though his cock filled and lifted against his belly, his chest ached. "I should've stayed here... god... I never should've left," Tony fisted the sheets.

Steve drew his fingers out and stroked Tony's hip, "They were determined to take her from us, they would've found a way. They were waiting for the moment to-"

"I gave them that moment. I let them walk in and take her..."

Steve shushed him and let his mouth rest at the nape of Tony's neck. It wasn't a kiss, just contact that made Tony's eyes sting. Steve might have been able to forgive him, but he wasn't so sure he could forgive himself. She was gone and it was his fault. Banner protected her the best he could, but Tony should've been there.

"We'll find her," Steve said again, his breath rolling over Tony's skin.

There was a promise hiding behind his words. A vow Tony already made as well. If they couldn't find her, they would rip apart every facet of the Brotherhood until there was nothing left, take it down mutant by mutant. They were Avengers, but Tony prayed that name wouldn't be necessary. If they had to avenge their little girl, no one would be safe from their wrath.

The tip of Steve's cock nudged against his hole and Tony relaxed around him. He could tell Steve wasn't completely hard. The soldier would get there after a few thrusts, but this wouldn't come close to their normal, passionate frenzies. Steve was still in most of his uniform and not out of an abundance of eagerness.

As Steve sunk in to the base, Tony caught the hand at his hip and brought it under his shirt. He laced their fingers together over the arc so Steve could feel the heat of the machine. It was a silent apology. Steve accepted it with a touch of lips to the shell of Tony's ear, his low grunt of pleasure sending a shiver down Tony's spine.

Though Steve's thrusts were slow and measured, they aimed at getting Tony off quickly. The first and second missed his prostate. The third scraped it and Tony moaned, his hands pulling at fistfuls of sheet. All of the thrusts that followed plowed directly into that sweet spot.

For a few scant minutes, the world narrowed to pleasure and Steve. Tony still felt the tug in his chest, the pain directly under Steve's palm. He could hear the loss in Steve's sounds, in the desperate edge of his groans and the way his gasps shuddered as they dragged past Tony's ear.

Tony's cock twitched, the cool sheets rubbing over the leaking head. He opened his eyes to stare at the far wall. He didn't see anything, not the view of Manhattan sleeping beneath the tower, not the digital clock clicking toward four AM, not the zoology book Annika left on the floor a few days ago. His breath quickened.

"Steve," the name came off his tongue like a plea and his husband's hand wrapped around his cock before it finished leaving his lips.

Tony keened softly and rolled down into Steve's thrusts. Their pace increased, Steve's thighs slapping against Tony's backside. Every time they connected, Tony thought it felt wrong, until he realized he wasn't feeling flesh connect with his ass and the backs of his legs. It was the Kevlar of Steve's suit. He hadn't bothered to take off the pants.

"C-Couldn't you at least s-strip down a little?" Tony panted, trying for annoyed and failing.

Steve kept going, his hips pistoning up and in while he held Tony still. The other worked his erection from base to tip. When Steve's palm reached the head of Tony's cock, he slid over it to gather the precome and ease the slide down the shaft. His thumb rubbed along the sensitive vein at the back, tracing under the head with the nail.

Tony shivered, feeling his balls draw up in preparation. Knowing they didn't have time to drag things out, he let go as soon as his release warmed his insides. Body knotting up tight, Tony moaned and arched his back so his shoulders pressed against Steve. His cock jerked and spurted hot ribbons of white across the sheets.

"That's it," Steve kissed his ear, "let it out so you can relax."

Tony made an incoherent sound that neared a rumble, before slowly unwinding in Steve's arms. The tension left his frame, but his anger and despair clung like forgotten holiday decorations. Still hard, Steve drew out of him and stroked his hair.

Tony twisted, trying to see his face, "What about-"

"Don't worry about it," Steve held him to his chest. "Relax."

Tony let out a whispered sigh and dragged a pillow to him, tucking it under his head. He closed his eyes and listened to Steve breathing even out, "You'll wake me..."

"Of course."

"Because I have to-"

"I'll wake you up as soon as we have something," Steve hugged him tighter as he made his promises.

Grogginess crept around the edge of Tony's senses, waiting for a chance to rush in. He held it off with feverish thoughts of what he needed to do when he got up. With the warmth at his back and the listless, foggy afterglow filling his head, he couldn't fight it off for long. He was vaguely aware of Steve getting out of bed, but he was asleep before he heard the door to the bathroom close.

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TBC…

Sooner rather than later, it will be continued. Christmas is over now, we can all breathe a sigh of relief and go back to our regularly scheduled fan fiction.


	12. Mortal Man Usurped

A/N: I promised there would be more soon. Here you go. If you spot any technical issues, let me know and I'll fix them.

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Annika stared at the sandwich in front of her. It was processed ham and Velveeta, two things she was not allowed to eat at home. Daddy said no one should eat food that no longer bears resemblance to something natural. For the most part, Papa agreed with him, but he still snuck her an occasional treat. This sandwich was white bread and modified cornstarch and pasteurized, processed cheese food and solidified ham water. It made her stomach turn. It made her want home and a fresh apple and a place in her Daddy's lap while he worked on his newest electronic breakthrough.

Tears slipped down her cheeks for the third time that morning. Scarlet Witch broke away from her brother and crouched beside her chair. She was a nice lady, more so than anyone else on the ship was. She stroked Annika's hair back and asked, "What's wrong, sweetie? Is it the crust? I'll cut it off, it's okay."

Wanda scooped the plate off the cheap, pressboard table and went to the L-shaped kitchen at the back of the room.

Quicksilver perched on the arm of a worn-out green couch as she meticulously removed the crust from the sandwich, "I doubt it's the crust." His tone was dry, but lacked edge.

"You never liked the crust either," Wanda returned, her knife scraping over the ceramic dish.

Annika considered them both with cautious eyes. They weren't like the others. The man, Quicksilver, or Pietro as his sister called him, had some of the same attitude as the rest of the Brotherhood. He stood aside from them, though. When they'd gathered in Magneto's office and the white-haired leader told her mother to get back to work, there were throngs of mutants in the hall. Pietro stood by the bookshelves, watching Magneto's face with a faint trace of a scowl pulling at his mouth.

Wanda brought the plate back and sat on the bench beside her, "Better?"

The unnatural square food stared up at her, the pile of cheese curls beside it reminding her of florescent caterpillars. Annika picked up a cheese puff delicately, only the tips of her fingers making contact with it. If Wanda noticed her disinterest, she didn't comment. Her thin fingers ran through Annika's hair. The motion still made Annika flinch, but she didn't jerk away from her touch.

There was something about it that reminded her of her mother, before her mother left her in Russia to build her army. When Momma returned for her, there was something cold about her, as if she'd forgotten to enjoy Annika. Growing up in the facility, she was used to seeing her mother cry when she got visitation, but eventually she'd laugh and smile and hug Annika to her. After her Daddy and Papa saved her from the facility, her mother was distant. She'd become someone else.

"This isn't right," Wanda said and got up from the table.

The kitchenette was small enough that she covered it in four steps, touching her brother's shoulder as she passed him. He brought his hand up to brush over her fingertips before they were gone, "What do you expect us to do about it? He's mobilizing now. The plan is moving forward and she's the key to making Golovin finish improving the serum. You know he won't settle for anything less than perfection, he'll keep them both here until it's done."

Annika pushed her sandwich around and peeled apart the layers, listening to the siblings intently. In their eyes, she was a child. Acting like one would keep them talking as if she wasn't in the room. She made a face at the globs of mayonnaise and scraped it off with a cheese curl.

Putting the butter knife into the sink, Wanda packed up the sandwich fixings, "I don't really think that woman is right in the head. We should've left her little girl with the Avengers. I looked them up, they adopted her, Pietro."

"What's done with her is not our choice..." Quicksilver hesitated, crossing one leg over the other.

Wanda looked at him over her shoulder and crammed the meat and cheese into a small, metal-front fridge, "It just... It feels wrong. Tell me it doesn't."

"It does."

"We should-" Wanda's mouth snapped shut as Pyro slammed into the room.

The redhead radiated heat even without his lighter. Annika shrank into the corner where the bench connected with the wall, cringing when he glanced at her. She slipped beneath the table and shivered at his harsh laugh. From the dusty floor, Annika could only see their legs until Wanda crouched to peer at her. Worry creased the woman's face.

"We're ready. You coming?" the fire starter asked. Pushing his hand into his pocket, he drew out a boxy lighter and spun it in fingers. Annika's eyes spun with it, following the liquid, black dragon on the side.

Pietro stood, "Yes, I'll leave in a few minutes."

"Magneto wants the strike to-"

"Trust me, I won't miss the deadline."

With a snort, the pyrotechnic snapped the lighter open and shut, "Fine. See you there, Speedy Gonzales."

When he was gone, Pietro went to Wanda's side. He knelt and they regarded Annika together. Tilting his head in his sister's direction, he said, "I assume you're staying here."

"Someone has to look after her."

Pietro nodded and kissed her cheek, vanishing from sight so fast Wanda's hair floated and waved around her face.

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There was nothing else he could do. Uselessness was not something Steve enjoyed. It reminded him of being small. Ninety-pounds and all heart, the other men looking down at him with a smirk when he said he wanted to fight. Now, he was all muscle and pacing like a caged animal because they could only wait for some sign of Magneto or his men.

The searches had come up empty, the teams wearing thin as they succumbed to exhaustion. Barton was sprawled across the couch, his head on Natasha's thigh. Every few minutes, the Russian would reach down to wipe the drool off his lip before it dripped on her pants, scraping it on his uniform shirt. Storm circled the map of Manhattan endlessly. There were so many buildings left, too many for them to search. Too many places for the Brotherhood to hide. Even with Banner helping her, they'd been at a standstill for over an hour.

Bobby and Rogue were curled up on the shag rug in front of the television, all of the couch pillows strewn around them. At one point, they'd been using the pillows, but neither one had been truly still since they'd gotten settled. Cyclops had politely asked for a bed as the sun crested the skyline to the east. Oddly enough Wolverine followed him out, but came back after a while with a slight smirk and cigar in his mouth.

Throughout the evening, Thor stood near Steve. They didn't speak, there was an understanding between them. Steve knew Thor would leap into action the minute they heard something, but he stayed by Steve as a steadying presence. The gigantic blond radiated the calm Steve needed. In most things, Steve was a rock, a pillar of serenity through conflict and violence. In this, the loss of family, he had no stable center.

As Natasha's screen flashed 'No Results' for the fiftieth time, Steve growled and stalked away. Behind him, he heard Thor call, "Are you in need of assistance?"

Steve waved him off. The bands of pressure around his chest made it hard to breathe, stress cinching them tighter every time they hit a dead end. He needed burn through some of it.

Aside from Bruce's path through the levels, most of the penthouse suffered minor damage. Steve assessed as he walked. There'd be a lot of repairs to make. Tony always looked at it as an excuse to redesign their home, hiding the invasion of their enemies behind new furniture and new paint. It always left Steve feeling like they were trying to pretend it didn't happen, as if they both wouldn't jolt awake every few hours over the next few weeks, their ears tuned for imagined sounds.

Steve peeled out of his uniform top as he entered the gym, hanging it off one of the posts of the boxing ring. The long-sleeved undershirt was easier to workout in, the fabric much lighter than his durable Stars and Stripes. He rolled up the sleeves and grabbed hand wraps from the gear locker.

As he covered his knuckles, he eyed the punching bag in the corner of the room. Patched and worn, it had lasted longer than most. He wondered if there were spares in closet, because it wouldn't survive the night.

Before he could finish binding his left hand, Steve heard bare feet approaching. The tread was light and familiar. "Didn't know you were awake," he said as Tony's arms snaked around his waist.

His husband's breath heated the nape of his neck, "Just got up..." Tony's cheek rested on his shoulder and Steve angled his head to press a kiss into his messy hair. "You need a sparring partner?" Tony asked, his voice leaden with sleep. He hadn't been up long, less than ten minutes if Steve had to guess. Certainly not long enough to get coffee.

"Not today," Steve told him as he tucked the end of the wrap under itself to hold it in place. The rest went unsaid, but he knew Tony comprehended why. He didn't have the control needed to box with Tony, he needed to beat something until it bled and the punching bag only leaked sand.

Tony spread his hands out on Steve's stomach and he offered, "Could get one of the suits."

"No. You'd be hammering dents out for weeks. It's okay."

Lips caressed the side of his neck, the brush of facial hair making Steve's skin tingle. "Alright," Tony conceded and released him.

His husband went to the locker room they rarely used. Steve could see him through the open door, rummaging around in the cabinets. When Tony straightened up with an empty water bottle in hand, Steve turned his attention back to the punching bag. He tapped his fist against it to judge his wraps and make sure they were arranged correctly, doing the same with the other hand. It was routine before every workout. Regularity kept his mind as steady as anything would.

Steve launched into a barrage of punches. He kept them low and tight, his eyes focused on the point of contact. The heavy sound of his blows filled the gym. Baring his teeth, Steve let his strength build. Even here, even against an inanimate enemy, he couldn't give it everything. If he had any hope of using the punching bag for longer than five minutes, he had to restrain himself. He'd put holes in the bags with his fists, knocked them loose to fly across the floor, hit them so hard they swung dangerously on the chain.

Control, he reminded himself. He struggled to maintain it, his fists flashing out with such force he could hear the punches reverberate through the chain. Steve kept his breathing even, but his lips twitched. His daughter's terrified face filled his mind and he felt the bag lift up and away. Canvas ripped and the bag's guts blew through the air in a sandstorm.

Steve paused, fists still held at the ready before he slowly dropped them to his sides. The bag hit the cement floor and spun as it slid. White sand spread in visceral shapes around the gym.

"You and the gym. Can't ever keep it clean, can you?" Tony asked from Steve's left. When Steve looked, Tony had another bag ready for him. His dark-haired partner dragged it closer and offered Steve the hanging chain with his good arm. "Keep 'em coming, right?"

Steve nodded and took the punching bag from him. Where Tony had to fight with the heavy bag to get it over to him, Steve picked it up with one hand. He hooked the top loop into the carabiner clip without removing the chains from the previous bag. As soon as it was in place, he gave a light hit to the center, and then swung a hard right up high. The bag jerked, its substantial weight centering it quickly. Before it stopped moving, Steve continued his previous pace.

He was aware of Tony leaving the water bottle on the nearby bench, but once he was beyond his field of vision, Steve lost track of him. Somewhere behind him, a treadmill cranked on and he heard Tony's feet slapping at a brisk jog. Tony hadn't taken four steps when Jarvis said, "Sir, there appears to be a crisis developing in Newark. The reports are coming in now."

Steve turned as Tony braced his feet on either side of the moving belt. Blue eyes met brown and Steve stripped off his boxing wraps. Tony ducked under the controls for the treadmill and Steve grabbed the top half of the uniform. They met at the door. His hand went to the small of Tony's back as they crossed paths. Steve went left with a, "I'm going to assemble the others," while Tony went right and said he was going to suit up.

"Jarvis, tell me what you have," Steve asked as he ran.

"So far, the authorities are uncertain, but it appears as though several mutants are involved. The searches Agent Romanov and Barton are running for Brotherhood members have honed in on the activity at the Newark shopping district," the computer explained. As Steve ran from one hall to the next, Jarvis adjusted flawlessly to project through the nearest speaker, "Though, I am unable to compute why the Brotherhood would attack a shopping center. My logic does not have any recommendations to explain this behavior."

"It's got to be part of something bigger," Steve slowed and yanked on the top of his uniform as he entered their makeshift control room.

Natasha was at his side instantly, "It just hit. Three of them in Newark. Pyro, Juggernaut, and another mutant we don't have file for."

They crossed to the television where Jarvis had four different news reports running simultaneously. Clint crouched to wake Bobby and Marie, though Bobby was already awake and watching the feed with a creased brow. The images on the screen burned, flames licking from dozens of buildings while civilians ran in every direction. Steve narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to the television. As far as he could tell, the mutants weren't stealing anything or targeting a particular place. They were after the people.

Steve went for his shield. He'd seen enough, "To the Blackbird. These wise guys are up to something. This doesn't look like a master plan to me, but we can't let it go on."

"They'll know where Lensherr's operating. Pryo is known to take command directly from Magneto, so he'll be a good place to start if we can peel him off from Juggernaut," Clint observed as he checked his quiver.

Rogue's head snapped around, the wisp of white hair falling across one eye, "John isn't one of them. He's just confused. Magneto got in his head and messed him up, but he's not bad."

Steve and Clint exchanged looks while Natasha rolled her eyes. The young kid on the screen didn't seem confused to Steve. He seemed gleeful to be causing so much destruction. While Steve kept his mouth shut, Clint motioned at the television as the image zoomed out to show the spreading fires, "I think I'd have to argue that one. When someone gets in your head and fucks with it, you don't look that happy about it."

Bobby straightened up beside Rogue, his mouth open to argue, when Wolverine snapped, "Enough." The burly mutant silenced them with a raised eyebrow that warned and dared for an argument. When neither of them spoke, he pointed his cigar at the screen, "Kid used to be one of ours. If we're going to use him to find Magneto, we'd rather have Xavier do it."

"Fine," Steve said and slotted the shield over his arm. "Fair enough. We need to roll out."

Rogue's eyes went wide, "Logan! John needs-"

"He picked this road and you know it."

A roar approached the broken window and Tony glided through it. His thrusters kicked up the debris the broom missed, dust and flecks of broken tile billowing into the air. Steve was going to have to get used to the black armor. Every time he saw it, he had to remind himself it was Tony and not War Machine. Rhode's machine was lighter than the stealth armor, but not by much. It was the streamline quality of Tony's new suit that made it easier to identify.

"I just got another report from Fury, there's an attack on Interstate two-seventy eight on Staten Island. They're ripping up cars like they're piñatas," Tony said as he dropped into a walk.

Natasha went to her computer to pull up the information. While she worked, Banner and Storm joined them from the breakfast room. Steve looked to them with hope, but Bruce shook his head. Nothing. Steve thought that would be the case. There were too many places for them to hide in Manhattan. Maybe if he'd left Tony on the search team, they'd have more results, but Banner was smart enough to make the same deductions Tony would.

"Alright, let's do this by existing teams. We know how our own people work together, so-"

Natasha cut him off, "There are three attacks now- wait, make that four. They're popping up everywhere, Cap."

Brow dipping, Steve leaned over her shoulder to read the information. According to SHIELD's database, the Brotherhood's entire roster had hit the streets, with the exception of Scarlet Witch and Magneto himself. There were a half-dozen mutants they didn't have catalogued yet mixed in with the hard hitters. The incidents were in three of the nearby states, scattered over a sixty-mile radius.

"They're trying to spread us thin," Steve mused. It was the only reason he could see for so many attacks on the civilian population. There had to be something else going on. He straightened up, his jaw flexing with his subdued anger, "Let's move out."

"But you just said they were trying to separate our forces," Cyclops was still adjusting his gloves as he came downstairs. "Our focus needs to be on Magneto. He's the one orchestrating all this and he'll have something bigger planned. If we play into their hands, it could be too late."

"Right now, our priority is the civilians. We protect them above all else," Steve told him.

Tony quipped, "Don't worry, he's the Star Spangled Man with a Plan."

As of the moment, Steve didn't have a strong plan, but it was forming details even as they talked. He'd need every resource at his disposal. Steve pointed at Natasha first, "Nat, get on the line with Fury, make sure he's on his way. We're going to need every agent we've got to help keep them away from people. Barton, head downstairs to level one forty, there's a jet there Tony's been working on. Bring it up level with the balcony. Your security codes will get you in."

When he took a breath, Tony made sure to add, "The weapons systems aren't online yet. It'll just be transport."

Hawkeye nodded and picked up his bow. He jogged to the stairs.

"Storm, go with him. He's going to need some air support," Steve continued, analyzing the rest of his assets as Storm followed Clint. "I want Cyclops and Rogue on the freeway. Thor, you handle the group in Connecticut. Wolverine, I want you to take Long Island, Clint will give you a ride. Clint and Storm will continue out to upstate New York while Bobby and I take Jersey."

The young mutant looked to Wolverine and Cyclops with surprise, eyebrows rising. Steve doubted that he'd worked away from any of his teammates before. There were other places he could send Bobby, but Steve wanted his abilities to counteract Pyro.

"I need you to help me with John," Steve added, "We're going to need to take that whole area down about six-hundred degrees. You think you can handle that?"

The bright blue eyes met his and Steve could see the underlying filaments of a hero. While his solid core still needed time to develop, Steve recognized the determination he wore. Bobby nodded, "Yes, sir. I can."

"Good." Steve approved of the tone. He looked at Bruce, "Banner, I want you out of the way for now. Get with Fury, but stay out of the fight until we can get the civilians clear."

Thor pat Banner's shoulder as he walked past, "Come, my friend. I will take you to Fury's large aircraft."

The doctor hesitated, but eventually trailed after the big blond, "You know, I don't think I've ever had the urge to travel by hammer. If I change size, just drop me." At Thor's hearty laugh, Banner cracked a thin smile.

At the last, Steve turned to Tony. Jaw set and gaze hard, he said, "Tony, find Lensherr. Deal with him."

"Understood," Tony answered, the emotionlessly faceplate taking away the worried father and replacing him with the unwavering Iron Man.

Without another sound, Steve's husband took three bounding steps and dove out the broken window. He vanished from sight. A breath later, the blue white streaks of his rockets curved up and away from the building. Steve didn't have time to worry about him. Tony could handle himself.

"I want everyone to have communicators. We have a case of them on the new quinjet. Talk to each other. We need to know when a situation is under control or if it's getting worse so people can shift around," Steve said, his attention going to the balcony as Clint brought the jet around.

It was bigger than SHIELD's jet, but lighter and more responsive. Tony labored endlessly on the propulsion, tweaking it to get the lift working in narrow corridors, like the space between buildings. It looked as if Clint was handling the new controls easily, but he was incredibly adaptable. He got it level with Tony's landing pad and held it steady.

In his ear, Barton chuckled, "Remind me to kiss your husband next time I see him. This is possibly the finest piece of tech I've ever flown in my life."

"You can tell him, but you touch his lips at your own risk."

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Backed into a corner, Raisa found her options becoming more desperate and violent. She sat at her desk, fingering a shattered piece of PVC while she listened to the quiet gathering on the floors above her. The mutants were gone. Raisa wasn't naive, she knew Magneto would keep a handful behind to ensure she continued working, but she could deal with the remnants. Facing the Avengers, Magneto would send his strongest out. Those left behind would be easier to avoid... or kill, if the situation demanded it.

She looked down at the long, jagged piece of plastic. It was a heavy grade, hard to find on a ship made almost entirely of metal. Only pipes designated for drinking water were made of plastic, to avoid the ingestion of corrosion. She ripped apart the cabinets in the kitchen to get at it, breaking off a shard that would suit her needs.

No matter what happened, Raisa knew for certain she couldn't stay. Friends could become enemies in a blink of an eye, a lesson she learned many years ago. The Brotherhood had passed beyond helpful and into threatening. She hadn't seen Annika all day and she knew she wouldn't until she 'finished' Lensherr's serum.

A screech of metal hinges made Raisa lift her head. Magneto entered through the hatch, Azazel on his heels. His cape billowed behind him and he had his helmet tucked in the crook of his arm. In the time she'd been near him, Raisa had never seen him without it. They crossed the near-empty laboratory and Raisa slid the PVC inside her sleeve, eyes glued to Erik.

Her lab was barren without the piles of boxes, the production line in standby while it waited for the next batch of serum. Empty syringes littered the floor from her messy 'assistants'. They'd never done anything but get in her way.

As Magneto approached her workstation, Raisa sat up on her stool and minimized the programs on the computer in front of her. The search algorithm she'd written continued to run in the background, hunting for communications codes that would help her deal with Magneto should she fail to deal with him herself.

"Your new equipment will arrive late this evening," the gray-haired mutant proclaimed with a smile creasing his face. "I'll be expecting a new batch from you, with a lower mortality rate. We want to bestow the gift of mutation and build our ranks, not kill them by the thousands."

Raisa returned his smile icily, "Was that not also the point?"

"It is time for mankind to step down from the ruling seat. The transition will be violent, so we do not need to cause more death than is necessary to provoke change. I don't expect you to understand."

"No, of course not. I, like you, am an element of change and little else," Raisa sneered and got up from her stool. Though she was small, she was formidable. No fear lived in her eyes since her husband died. Hate resided there now. Hate and cold. It stirred in her irises like a venomous snake in the depths of a still pond. "Produce my daughter, Lensherr, and then I will consider editing your serum."

His smile faded. She could see the same dark snake in Lensherr's eyes. It may not have been the same loss that put it there, but Raisa recognized the hatred.

"No, my dear. You will finish your work first. You swore this could be done with the right equipment and I've jumped through hoops to get it. If you don't finish what you've started, you're going to force me to make this far less pleasant than it's already become," Magneto warned.

Raisa straightened into her full height, barely coming past Erik's shoulder. She gripped the plastic shank tighter, feeling the edges dig into her fingertips, "And you swore that you would bring her to me. Let me see her. Hold her hostage and you will regret you ever released me from prison."

Erik considered her in silence. She waited, every muscle taut and prepared. She knew what his answer would be. It was something she'd heard hundreds of times. The empty promises. 'Maybe when you've had some success', 'Perhaps once you've finished your work'. It could be any number of phrases, but they all rang hollow. The answer was no. It would always be no.

This time, it wouldn't take Raisa five years to figure out she was never meant to leave with her daughter.

"I will consider it."

Magneto's words hit her and she lifted her head in defiance. No. The answer was always no. Raisa let the shard of plastic slide into her palm as he turned his back on her. Baring her teeth, she lunged in, aiming for the space between his ribs. It wouldn't take much, the shank was long enough to puncture his liver. He'd bleed out in minutes.

Azazel saw the action, the red-skinned creature reached out, his mouth moving with a warning Raisa didn't hear. Pain burst through her. She screamed, crumpling to her knees. The tip of plastic pipe caught Magneto's cape. A rip yawned in the fabric. It laughed at her, the soft spot she was aiming for peering untouched through the hole.

Raisa dropped the PVC and clutched her thigh. No bigger than a pinhead, the wound on the side of her leg stained her pants with blood. While it was small, she could feel the needle digging into her femur. The plastic syringe and vial lay on the floor, still rocking after it broke off the end of the metal tip. Her eyes lifted to see Erik's fingers twitch. The needle jumped in response, tearing another wail from the depths of her lungs.

"Be very careful, Mrs. Golovin," Magneto said, a look breaking over his shoulder that was calm, but dangerous. As he faced her, more needles lifted from the supply boxes. They danced to the silent tune played by his fingertips, driving closer. "You may have been queen of the insects, but you are among gods now."

Dark hair falling in curls across her eyes, Raisa watched the floating needles. One wouldn't kill her, but all together… She didn't fear death. She'd looked into the face of death too long. It had become a familiar friend, but she would never get her daughter out if she died.

She let fear onto her face, remember the motions well enough to mimic them. Her brows drew together, her mouth opening as she inhaled for an unfulfilled scream. Muscles tightened in her arms and shoulders so she could scurry backwards like a good, little sheep. Her leg burned from the motion, but she remembered that fear overcame even pain.

"I will fix it," she swore, keeping her voice on the stable side. If she showed too much, he'd know. "I will fix it, please… just don't hurt Annika."

Pleased with her response, Erik dropped his hand. The needles fell to the deck, pattering like hail, "The equipment will be here soon. When it arrives, you will work until you've all but eliminated the mortality rate."

Raisa nodded, keeping her gaze on the floor.

"Good," Magneto relaxed and Raisa nearly ruined it by laughing. "Someone will be down to make sure you don't get an infection."

When he flicked his fingers, the needle bolted from her flesh, tearing out her smug satisfaction. She grit her teeth and screamed through them, her lips pulling up in a snarl. Fresh blood rolled down her leg. All of the fake fear left her face once Magneto walked away with Azazel. It went up in a flash of rage as she glared at his retreating back.

The moment the door slammed shut, Raisa fought to her feet. She had to grip the desk to get her feet underneath her, the wounded leg dragging instead of working. Sweat broke out across her brow and beaded at her hairline. When she finally slid onto her stool, her breath came out heavily.

Raisa put her quivering fingers over the computer mouse and maximized the search algorithm. A window flashed in the center of the screen, 'Would you like to connect now?' printed above a bolded 'Yes' and a softer 'No'. She clicked yes and adjusted the webcam at the top of the screen.

Her program flew through its paces, burrowing into Jarvis's system in less than two minutes. By the time she had a live feed to Iron Man, she'd stopped shaking. Stark's face appeared in the window, looking extremely surprised and pissed.

"Scorn! How the- Where's Annika?!"

"You want your war with Magneto, Tony Stark?" She asked, leaning forward. "Come and get it."

With one click, she sent the boat's coordinates to the enemy of her enemy. Before Tony could open his mouth, Raisa closed the window and pushed the monitor off the desk. It crashed to the floor in a burst of white sparks. Her face serene, she bound her leg. The pain meant nothing now. She only had a few minutes before the Avengers descended on the Brotherhood.

Raisa limped to the automated machinery. Picking up a solid wrench one of her 'helpers' left behind, she crammed it into the mechanics and switched it on. The gears and belts picked up speed and drew the wrench into the workings. As smoke curled from the base, Raisa headed for the stairs to take her deeper in the ship. By the time she reached the first landing, flame licked out of the underbelly of the machine.

She heard the shouts of the mutants, of the skeleton crew Magneto had left. It would take every one of them to stop her grease fire. Raisa Golovin limped toward the prow of the ship and her daughter, knowing she had to be gone by the time Iron Man arrived.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Almost done now. I'm ball parking two chapters, but it might be one long one. Not sure yet.


	13. Boiling Point

Steve swore it was a million degrees when the hatch to the Blackbird opened. He exhaled and squinted as the heat rolled over his face. Flames engulfed the shopping center. Highlighting the insides of buildings in shades of yellow and orange and soot, the fire consumed the plaza. Even the stunted trees were matchsticks. They bowed in the exhaust from the plane as they burned. Through the crackle and hiss, Steve heard a chorus of screams. The battle was out of sight beyond the line of buildings, as Steve had requested. He didn't want to announce their presence too quickly.

"Do you think you can put any of that out?" he asked the young X-Man beside him.

Bobby shook his head, "Sir, a stout rain couldn't put that out. It's too much. I can cool the air, calm it a little, but it's going to have to burn out."

Steve thought that might be the case. He hefted his shield and said, "Your focus needs to be Pyro. Leave the other two to me."

Giving Marie a comforting smile over his shoulder, Bobby nodded to her and Cyclops. His boyish features seemed strained in the light of the inferno raging outside.

"Be careful," Rogue told him, her gloved hands gripping the seatbelts at her shoulders.

"I will. You do the same."

Cyclops rotated his chair and leaned on the arm. There were lines of worry in his forehead, hard to read beneath his eye gear, "Bobby, stay close to the Captain." His face turned and Steve didn't need to see his eyes to know Scott had focused on him, "You look out for him, or so help me-"

"He'll be fine," Steve assured him.

They didn't have time for this. Steve understood it, but they didn't have time. People were dying.

Steve grabbed Bobby's shoulder, "We have to go."

They went to the ramp and Rogue shouted, "Bobby, wait!" The note of desperation in her voice subdued her southern drawl, making her sound younger in Steve's ears.

Before Steve could argue, Marie careened into Bobby's arms. Her mouth collided with her boyfriend's and his hands came up to cradle the back of her head. He drew away quickly, his lips oddly pale. Their eyes connected. Rogue's exhale misted in the air, traced with Bobby's power.

Silently, they separated, Bobby looking up at Steve, "Okay. I'm ready."

Steve pulled his mask down over his face, a smile tugging at his lips. At least the kid had something to help him stay alive. As obscenely romantic as it was, Steve had seen the thought of a loved one keep men going in the field. Something had to drive a man when he was too exhausted or hurt to continue, and love was better than rage.

Steve descended the ramp, the air growing impossibly hotter as he reached the ground. Even out in the open, the fires had burned most of the oxygen. The air was thin and dry, crackling like ancient newspaper. Ash drifted, grey snow covering the ground. The jet lifted off and Steve had to put his hand in front of his face to keep the debris out of his eyes.

They moved at a brisk jog. Their boots kicked the ash into clouds as they rushed between the burning buildings. Smoke obscured their view and their approach. It was a dangerous tactic, but Steve knew it could work to their advantage. A sharp crack made Steve lift his shield, his attention going to a two-story boutique as it collapsed in on itself. He kept moving.

In the distance, the battle cry of police sirens approached. One voice joined another and another until it sounded as though a task force the size of a small army approached. Some of them would be fire trucks. Steve hoped most of them were cops. That would help with civilians, they'd have someone to hand them off to once they were out of harm's way.

Behind him, Bobby cursed under his breath. When Steve spared him a glance, he looked guilty, "The X-Men don't have the best reputation with the police."

"In this kind of situation, you need to learn to trust them."

"It's more like they need to trust us."

"You have to show them you're worthy of it," Steve lowered his voice as they got closer to the conflict.

The scuffle of two pairs of feet approached. Steve peered over the edge of his shield. They didn't sound as if they were charging, more like they were trying to be quiet. Early morning light struggled to break through the haze, but Steve couldn't see anything. Bobby went quiet behind him, sensing his change. Since Steve had better ears than most, he didn't think the kid could hear them yet.

The shapes of blackened planters and skeleton foliage huddled in the shadows. They caught Steve's gaze as he tried to sort out the approaching bodies from the husks. There was a soft 'thump' and ragged coughing. A man whispered, "Get up, get up."

"Civilians," Steve said, approaching the voice.

Two silhouettes formed at the end of Steve's field of vision. One was bent over the other, smaller figure, struggling with it. As soon as he spotted Steve, he lifted a narrow shape Steve couldn't identify, wielding it like a baseball bat. Steve's first guess was a tire iron, but it could've been anything.

"Stay back!"

Steve raised his unoccupied hand, leading with his shield in case the man decided he was lying, "We're here to help. Can she still walk?" He motioned at the woman at the civilian's feet, finally getting close enough to see their faces and for them to see his. Recognition hit the man instantly.

"I-I think so," he said.

"Get her up and head that direction. We just came through there it's safe. The police are getting close, they'll get you out of here," Steve pointed through the smoky air with two fingers. Obscured as it was, the path wasn't long. They'd be out in the open in a few yards. "Go quickly."

The man pulled the woman up, her steady cough the only way to track them once they vanished in the smoke. Bobby watched them go, narrowing his eyes against the ash, "Should one of us make sure they get out alright?"

"It's not far," Steve said and continued on. "And there are other people who need help. They'll be fine."

They passed the line of burning shops, the shredded parking lot swimming into focus. Wind blew into their faces. It let them breathe, but exposed them. Steve crouched behind an overturned car and dragged Bobby down by his elbow. Leaning around the misshapen wheel well, Steve assessed the threat.

The mutants had a large group of civilians hemmed into the parking lot. Cars lay on their sides and hoods, some of them crumpled up as if they'd had an unfortunate meeting with a train. Steve assumed that was Juggernaut's work. From what he knew, the man couldn't be stopped once he gained momentum, he'd crash through anything in his way.

There were so many destroyed cars that the cement lot was blocked off. Juggernaut stood on a pile near the back of the lot while Pyro and the androgynous Archlight ringed in the sides. Terrified people hid in what was left of the vehicles, scattering away from the mutants any time one of them made a move.

Bodies ringed the area, but Steve didn't count many dead. Most were too wounded to move, glazed eyes staring at the sky or screaming and writhing with the pain. A pale woman with a burst of red, curly hair stayed huddled with one of the downed civilians. She protected the older man with her body, leaning over him whenever something new exploded.

Pyro grinned viciously and tossed a ball of fire into the nest of survivors. Steve jumped up and ran for the group. His feet pounded across the cement. He knew it was futile, the fire was moving faster, but he had to try. Dropping his shield down and grabbing it by one handle, he prepared to throw it.

A streak of white flew above Steve's head. It overtook the flames as they reached the huddled people. With a loud hiss, the fire went out in a plume of steam. Civilians flinched away, left safe and confused. Up on the trunk of the car, Bobby had his hands extended. There was a faint tremor in the tips of his fingers, but he was steadfast.

"Oy," Juggernaut shouted.

Pyro twisted, gaze flicking to Steve, then up to Bobby. A flash of mixed emotions curled over the pyrotechnic's face. Steve couldn't catch them all, but there was definitely regret, possibly shame. The cocky smile faded and he called, "Bobby?"

"Let them go, John. You don't have to do this," Bobby jumped down off the car, landing on the balls of his feet.

"You don't get it. We're-"

"We're just people. Just like they're people," Bobby shouted, motioning at the terrified collection of survivors. "We're not above them. If anything, we should be protecting them because we have a gift they don't."

The sirens shrieked, the sound so close it was nearly deafening. Coruscant red and blue lights made their battleground flicker. Juggernaut stepped off his perch. Though he only fell a few yards, Steve swore the vibration of his landing rattled the stack of cars.

"Oy," he yelled again, moving toward Pyro. The gigantic mutant sent an SUV spinning with a lazy push as he sauntered through the lot, "Flash fry the bitch and let's keep this going. The fuzz is here."

A man in a torn, white button-down took a chance and bolted behind Juggernaut. Hyperventilating as he ran, the civilian tripped over a bent tail pipe and went down hard. Juggernaut's block of a body turned slowly, the sides of his thick helmet blocking his view. The civilian scrambled on his hands and knees, sweat visible under the arms of what used to be a nice shirt.

"You think you're just going to leave?"

Rotating his torso to get enough power behind it, Steve threw his shield into the mutant's back. It hit between his shoulder blades and ricocheted to the side. Blood rose to the surface on the exposed skin. Bouncing off a truck, the shield took the angles Steve expected and he caught it in the air.

"Son of a-! What in the hells!" Juggernaut curled his lip at Steve, waving Archlight down when she moved to help him.

Steve slotted the shield over his arm and lifted his chin so he could look the mutant in the eye. He was big. Steve had fought bigger.

Juggernaut's snarl melted into a laugh, "What the hell are you supposed to be, the Texas state flag? Where's the boots and spurs?"

Steve rolled his shoulders and set his jaw, "You should walk away."

"You know who I am? I'm the-"

"Juggernaut. I'm aware. Will you come peacefully or are you going to force my hand?" No matter how big or small, Steve didn't like bullies. From what he'd read in Juggernaut's file, there wasn't anything else to him. As powerful the mutant may be, Steve was unimpressed. He stared up at the big man, daring him to make a move.

For a second, Juggernaut looked puzzled. Steve doubted anyone ever dared stand up to him. There was a first for everything. When his confusion passed, a deep, throaty laugh burst out of the mutant. The edged sound coaxed a chuckle out of Pyro, though their quiet companion remained unmoved.

While Juggernaut roared at his comment, Steve coiled back a fist. His red glove slammed into the middle of Juggernaut's face. Something cracked. The mutant stumbled away, both hands going to his face. Even with his palms muffling the curses, Steve got the gist of it.

"M' nose! M' fuckin' nose! I'fink ya broke m'nose! Son'f a BITCH!"

Steve approached Juggernaut's hunched form, "My mother was an upstanding Irish Catholic who went to church every day. You'll leave her out of it or I'll hit you again."

There was a flurry of movement behind him. Heat soaked through his uniform and Steve started to raise his shield, to turn and block Pyro's attack. Before he could, the flames went out in a hiss. Following Steve's instructions to the letter, Bobby iced John's arms and refocused his classmate's attention, allowing Steve to handle the other two mutants.

Police cars screeched into position around the parking lot. Overhead, the media helicopter circled closer. As the cops piled out of their cars, they took cover behind their open doors. The clack of rifles and shotguns and pistols overwhelmed the crackle of the burning buildings. A chorus of shouts drowned out the sound of the guns, warnings to stand down.

"Show's over," Steve proclaimed, stepping toward Juggernaut.

Blood smearing his grin, the big mutant growled, "It's just starting."

Steve's earpiece crackled and Cyclops came on the line, "Things are getting bad down here. We could use some-" Static filled the feed.

Bobby looked at Steve with wide, questioning eyes as Logan came on the group comm after him, "Scott? Scott? Shit. I'm going to need a ride. Everything's handled where I'm standing."

"Can't leave now," Clint responded, his voice heavy and punctuated by rasps of air going past the microphone. "Situation escalating."

"Tony, can you-" Steve broke off as Juggernaut charged him.

The mutant was a train engine heating up. It took time to get his bulk up to speed, but Steve knew better than to get in his way. He dove to the side, tucking into a tight summersault. The mutant crashed into a jeep. His shoulder cratered the metal, bending the frame like soft taffy. The safety glass frosted with micro-fractures and a few, sharp flakes drifted to the ground. Steve shot a glance over his shoulder to the civilians as Juggernaut hefted himself out of the flattened car. Backing up, Steve put himself between the mutant and the innocents.

"Stand down!" an officer's shout cleared the fight, drawing Steve's attention to the police line. "This is your last warning."

Archlight spread her feet and lowered her head, her gaze intent on the police gathered around them. When she lifted her arms at her sides, the men's jacket she wore jangled. Steve remembered what came next.

"Take cover," he shouted at the police.

She slapped her hands together, visible shockwaves cutting through the air. They spread into the squad with savagery. Windshields burst and police officers became leaves in a gale. Some slammed against their vehicles while others flew across the parking lot. She drew her hands apart and Steve threw his shield.

He barely saw it connect with the back of her legs when Juggernaut shoulder-checked him. Red pain radiated from his chest. Steve tumbled end over end until he managed to dig his toes into the asphalt. He braced himself up with one hand, narrowing his eyes at the smirking mutant.

Behind Juggernaut's back, the shield bounced off a light post. Steve used the traction he had to launch into a sprint. The shield hit the bumper of a Corolla and the flight path angled upward. Calculating in his head, Steve leapt to meet it in the air. His arm slotted into the straps and he came down on Juggernaut with the leading edge of vibranium. It hit the mutant's helmet near the crown. A crack bolted through the material and Juggernaut stumbled back.

Steve pushed forward the instant his feet encountered the ground. Slinging his arm in a backhand motion, he caught the mutant in the middle of the chest with his shield. He followed it with a quick left hook that connected solidly with his square jaw.

Heat exploded to the right. Steve flinched at how close it was. Without his uniform, it would've singed the hair off his arms. As it was, he had to squint against the glare.

Bobby drew both hands back, white flowing from his fingertips to elbows as a burst of ice collided with Pyro's fire. They sustained the clash of power, fire pushing against ice and gaining ground. Steam clouded the air. As slick, glassy blue crawled down Bobby's fingers, the ice took the advantage. The boys bared their teeth, Pyro shouting as a fresh surge of heat pulsed from his hands.

Sensing the fist careening toward him, Steve broke his attention off Bobby's fight. He leaned back and turned his head to let the scarred knuckles pass by his nose. Juggernaut's attacks were slow, but persistent. Steve dodged around two low punches and slammed his shield into the crack in the mutant's helmet. Rattling from the blow, the big man stepped back and put his hands on either side of the helmet to keep it in place.

SWAT vans parked at the back of the police line, well-armed men in black piling out in organized rows. Steve checked to see that Archlight was still struggling to get off the ground before he twisted to motion at the trapped civilians, "Go! Go now! You," he pointed at a taller man with a ponytail, "Carry him," and shifted his finger toward the prone man with the redhead crouched protectively over him. They scrambled to carry out his orders. "Get behind the police. Move. Now."

Juggernaut roared something incoherent and thundered in his direction. Steve lifted his shield for a bluff, tensing his body as if he was preparing to take the mutant head-on. When Steve could feel the ground vibrating under his feet, he dropped into a crouch. Spinning with Juggernaut's passing, he rotated the shield to the side and hit the back of the mutant's knees with the edge.

The big man crumpled. His knees hit the pavement first, his hands coming up to catch himself, though the movement was too slow to stop him. As he crashed into the ground, crevices opened up in the pavement. One ran past Steve's foot. Half of Juggernaut's helmet followed the craggy lines, rolling in loose circles until it tipped onto its side. The mutant shifted positions, but he didn't get up.

Steve watched him go still and adjusted his grip on the shield. Rotating, Steve set his sights on Pyro. The battle wasn't going in Bobby's favor. A ball of fire closed in on him, overwhelming him as he backed up. The kid was on the defensive, just trying to keep from getting burned.

Steve swung his arm around, ready to throw the shield, when a glob of green hit a few inches below the star. The metal hissed on contact, paint burning away as the fist-sized globule slid across the convex surface. Slick, polished metal gleamed underneath, something Steve hadn't seen since the forties.

Brows knitting as the green slime ate holes in the concrete Steve scoured the area for the source. Pyro lowered his hands and Bobby fell onto his butt with sweat rolling down the sides of his face. A new mutant with pale olive skin climbed down from the barrier of cars. His eyes caught on Pyro and they nodded at one another.

"You don't want to get involved here," Steve warned as he reached to pull Bobby to his feet. The last thing they needed were reinforcements for the opposing side. With this situation nearly under control, he could focus on his distressed teammates soon. "It's time to stand down, boys."

The newcomer grinned, his head wrenching back while his neck bulged. Steve's eyes widened as another wad of green acid projected from the mutant's mouth. He steered Bobby away by his arm, lifting his shield to take the hit. Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard Tony complain that the acid could ruin the integrity of the metal. He hoped that wasn't true.

"Captain…" Bobby whispered.

Mutants climbed over and through the wall of cars, dozens of them. Most of them appeared in normal clothes, some with backpacks, some that seemed scared and others that shouted at them.

"We're the cure!"

"Get out of the way or die with them!"

"Humans had their chance!"

A beer bottle arced from behind the line of cars, shattering to Steve's right. The SWAT filled the space behind him as the number of mutants swelled. Grinning, Pyro walked into the mass of newcomers and disappeared. Steve's heart pounded as he realized that these people were not part of the Brotherhood. He craned his neck to see the media helicopter circling the scene, Magneto's call to arms slamming through his mind.

"Report," he barked into the comm. "Someone report. What's happening at the other sites?"

Riot shields formed a wall at Steve's back. Another beer bottle flew through the air, but someone in the mass of mutants released a spark to meet it and the contents exploded. Blue fire hailed the police, hitting padded shoulders and polycarbonate shields. One of the cops shouted to Steve, but his voice was lost in the roar of the building crowd.

Bobby looked to him for orders, his blue eyes wide with uncertainty, "They're civilians. They're just civilians, how are we supposed to…"

Steve's earpiece crackled and Clint responded, "It's chaos, Captain. There are riots breaking out all across the tri-state area. Lensherr's message did more damage than we thought."

"Banner, tell me Fury is mobilizing. We need backup," Steve said, his body clicking over into the calm he normally carried into battle. Civilians or not, these people had to be pacified in one way or another. Nodding to Bobby, he ordered, "We help them stop this before it escalates. Protect the police, but keep things non-lethal."

"Fury is sending task forces to help the authorities. They're on their way to your location now," the doctor informed him.

"He'd better be sending us everything he's got," Steve answered as more and more mutants joined the mob.

The shouts were uncoordinated, one unintelligible voice made up of rage. For now, they left fifty yards between their lines and the police, but Steve knew it would only take one match to light the powder keg. Only one mutant had to charge before the others would follow.

A man with commander's stripes on his uniform braced a foot on the driver's seat of his squad car and stood above the others with a megaphone, "This is an unlawful gathering on private property. You will disperse or we will start making arrests. Disperse now. This is your only warning."

"You disperse or we'll take you apart," one voice boomed.

An approving roar came from the crowd and fists pumped into the air. Several mutants levitated off the ground. One grew in size until the others came to his waist, his shirt stretching to its limits before the seams gave way. Others surrounded themselves in energy, fire, crackles of electricity, and swirls of rock.

Steve looked down the line of police and saw fear on their hardened faces. Behind them, their commander repeated his threats, "Disperse now."

He raised his scorched shield above his head to get their attention. Marching in front of the riot police, he yelled, "Hold your line! They may have power, but they will go down. Defend the man beside you. Hold your ranks and push them back."

The spark came. Steve saw it happen, saw the woman with blue streaks in her hair and a lip ring slam her hands on the ground. A tremor shook the defensive line. Before they could finish rattling, a yawning crevice opened beneath their feet. Men screamed as they dropped into the darkness. Hands of their fellow officers reached out and caught two of the six that went down. They pulled their men to safety as the mutants charged.

"You ready?" Steve asked Bobby.

The kid didn't have a chance to answer. Mutants crashed over them in a wave. There was no room to think. Steve let his instincts rule him, feeling where his enemies were more than seeing them. Each hit led to another, his movement fluid. He punched one man in the stomach, feeling him double over before he twisted to kick another that leapt toward him.

The variety of powers and mutations meant nothing when they were packed so close. Few could use their power with their fellow mutant crammed in on either side. Beer bottles, bits of rubble and brick, and trash rained down on the police.

Beside him, Bobby panted heavily. The kid's ice hit everyone that came in range. He kept it focused on extremities, freezing hands and feet and arms. Steve winced. Frost bite set in almost as soon as Bobby touched anyone. Skin darkened under the ice and mutants screamed and fell away.

The thunk of shapes hitting riot shields mingled with curses. As clawed fingers caught the edge of Steve's mask and the fleshy round of his cheek, he braced his shield against the wall of bodies and pushed with every ounce of his strength. It created a few feet of space, enough for Steve to see that approximately half the crowd hung back from the fight. They were the ones screaming the mutant agenda and throwing things at them.

"Steve," Tony's voice was honey after such an extended silence. Steve was starting to worry he'd been shot down. "Steve, do you copy? I have coordinates for Magneto's FOB."

Steve grunted as a woman in a sundress shot organic needles at him from her skin. The darts pinged off his shield, a few hitting his shoulders and legs. They didn't make it far past his kevlar, most bounced off the durable, blue fabric. When he lunged at her, she yelped and vanished into the crowd.

"Steve? I have-"

"Heard you. Take-"

"The information came from Raisa."

Steve stilled long enough for someone to get a lucky punch on his jaw. It stung, but didn't move him. He sent a fierce look in the attacker's direction and returned the hit. The brunet flew back into his friends. "Don't you dare go alone. Smells like a trap," Steve growled into the microphone, his stomach knotting.

"Admiral Akbar agrees."

"I still don't understand that joke, Tony," and he could see right through it.

Despite the quip and Tony's attempt to make light of things, the other man's tone was brittle. They both knew Raisa could turn face faster than anyone. She could be helping them, but it was just as likely that she was trying to lead Tony to his death. Riasa Golovin seemed to think that life was hers to give and take without question. Steve could throw her much further than he trusted her.

"It's a Star Wars thing… guess you slept through that one… I have to check out the coordinates. On the off chance that she's trying to help us-"

A big man in a business suit grabbed Bobby from behind. Steve plucked him off by the nape of his neck and elbowed him in the ribs. "Take Banner with you," he ordered as he scanned the police line. Their ranks were thin. There more officers were on the ground than on their feet. Though the mutant horde was in the same state, there were more of them to begin with.

Steve spotted a giant stomping through the police. The hulking brunet broke their defenses with a barefoot kick to an officer's riot shield, sending the flanking men tumbling as well. The police tried to fill the gap, but it was like trying to stop a tsunami with sandbags. Mutants flooded through the hole.

"Close rank! Close rank!" Steve shouted, shoving through the attacking mass.

The crowd jostled against him. There were too many bodies and not enough room. Coiling into a crouch, Steve jumped onto the rioters. He stepped on shoulders and heads, his boots barely touching down before he lifted them again. It was more bounding than running, each step a small jump to hit the next available surface. Using the broadest pair of shoulders he saw as a springboard, Steve vaulted at the giant.

He caught his ear in one hand and swung his body around him. As Steve's considerable weight hit the tender flap of skin, the giant stumbled sideways. The mutant fell, a boulder in an ocean of movement. Steve landed on his feet, going down to one knee with his shield raised against the swarm of rioters. Police formed up behind him. There were only four of them, their defensive line spread thin over the gaping hole.

"Hold the line!" Steve shouted as he stood.

There was a breath, an uncertain, static silence before the wall of mutants surged forward. Steve worried about Bobby, but the police were human. They were human and not trained for something like this. Steve stayed out in front, his focus so narrow that all he could hear was the crunch of bone and the slap of flesh. His eyes flicked from target to target, only seconds ahead of his attacks. Breathing accelerating, Steve could feel the edges of exhaustion creeping in. He could only imagine how the others felt.

The chop of a helicopter roared over the fight. Mutant and human alike lifted their heads to see three SHIELD aircraft lowering into position. Ropes dropped from the open cargo doors and some of the rioters stumbled back to avoid the well-armed men repelling down them.

Steve didn't recognize their uniforms. They were in dark gray military gear akin to the black regalia of SHIELD's standard foot soldiers, but the patches on their shoulders bore a 'CK' on the eagle's chest. Thirty-six of them landed in the middle of the fray, twelve from each helicopter.

The team's efficiency was everything Steve would expect from SHIELD. They took up positions behind the remaining police, taking over the defensive line as the exhausted officers fell back. Leveling unfamiliar weapons at the hoard, they opened fire. Blue electricity arced through the air from the broad tips of the guns. Steve felt the charge build around him as the bolts struck their targets. Mutants dropped, twitching in uncoordinated piles.

Something touched Steve's shoulder and he spun with a raised fist. The SHIELD agent stepped back, his pockmarked face calm. Steve didn't know him, though he'd made an effort to look through SHIELD's personnel files when he could so he could call agents by their name. This sergeant didn't have a file he could access or he was new. The corners of Steve's mouth pulled into a faint frown as he wracked his mind, his eyes going to the 'CK' emblazoned on his uniform.

The crew cut saluted him sharply, "Sir, Fury has asked that you accompany Mr. Stark. He wants Erik Lensherr alive and Dr. Banner might prove to be a detriment to those orders."

Steve returned the salute and scanned the fight. The mutants broke apart, some of them running, but most of them falling under SHIELD. Agents that weren't providing cover fire were busy taking people into custody. They already had a row of men and women laid out on their stomachs with zip strips binding their wrists. Groups of four and five broke off the main team to take down some of the stragglers. Their efficiency at handling the mutants made Steve think that they were trained for bigger threats than this.

"What's your unit's designation?" Steve asked.

"Classified."

Steve tilted his head. As an Avenger, he had access to almost everything. Fury gave him clearance for more information than even Tony was privy to, mostly because he had a level head where Tony tended to fire off the cuff. He couldn't ignore the pit growing in his stomach, but there wasn't enough time to question it. Nodding curtly at the sergeant, Steve went to Bobby.

The kid was scratched up, blood running out of his spiked hair and down the side of his neck. Those bright blue eyes turned to Steve and Bobby nodded, "I heard. Go help, I'll be fine."

"Stay with the agents, they'll get you back to your team…" Steve hesitated. He'd taken the kid under his care and leaving didn't feel right.

Flashing a grin, Bobby pointed into the sky, "Here comes your ride. Really, I'll be fine, Captain."

Steve raised his hand to shield his eyes and peered through the smoke from the guttering fires. High above the horizon, a streak of white approached. It was too far out to see anything else, but Steve could recognize the trail of thruster burn anywhere. "Tony, did you get Fury's order?" he asked to verify.

"Considering you're looking right at me, pretty sure you know the answer to that. I'll take Rhetorical Questions for a thousand, Bob. Bring on that Daily Double."

"It wasn't a Jeopardy question. All I needed was a yes or no."

Tony chuckled, the line of heat from his rockets arching as he honed in on them, "Figures you'd know that one. And yet, I can't get you to watch a whole Star Wars movie in one sitting... Better get clear of the crowd, babe. Going to be quick about this."

It occurred to Steve as he moved to the most isolated part of the parking lot that he swore he wasn't going to fly with Tony again. He glanced longingly at a helicopter before Iron Man seared into the battleground. His husband's suit curved as Tony pointed his hand repulsors forward to slow his rapid descent. He clanked onto one knee, all of his thrusters going dark.

"You think you can hold onto my back? I can sacrifice the auxiliary burners if it means I'll have my hands free," Tony said as he stood, his voice coming out of Steve's earpiece and not his loudspeaker.

Loosening the handles on his shield, Steve slung it across his shoulders, "Sure, but can you keep it under the speed of sound? Be too messed up to fight otherwise."

"God, you're old."

Steve rolled his eyes and hooked his arms around the armor's chest, "Shut up and fly, Tony."

They blasted skyward, heading east.

xxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

So, this was supposed to have two other scenes, but it was already so long. Like always, I'm a terrible judge of chapter length and this story will probably be another two chapters before it's finished.


	14. Lullaby of Endless Night

Raisa stepped into an open hatch for cover as three of Lensherr's men ran by with fire extinguishers. It had taken longer to traverse the underbelly of the ship than she anticipated. The large cargo bays were too risky to cross and the adjoining halls were labyrinthine. She knew Annika would be near the captain's quarters, but finding them was another matter. Her thigh burned, blood staining her pants to the knee. Raisa bared her teeth and pushed on once the mutants were gone.

The empty hall stretched out ahead of her, looking exactly like every other hall in the ship. She hurried through the narrow space. Her hand bumped over the wall, her right leg shaking every time she put her weight on it. Every few feet, Raisa peered over her shoulder to ensure she wasn't leaving a trail of blood behind her.

At a cross hall, Raisa slowed. She tried to picture the ship in her mind. If there was an intersection, then she was beyond the cargo bay. Without a gun, she felt naked. Bullets weren't effective against every mutant, but it was better than being barehanded. Raisa pushed into a bunk. The abandoned belongings from the crew were strewn around the room. A row of women in bikinis smiled at her from the wall, several baseball caps hanging from the thumbtacks.

Raisa yanked the mattresses off the twin beds, scrounging for weapons. The first trunk yielded plenty of plaid shirts and blue jeans, but at the bottom of the second trunk there was a Bowie knife. Raisa growled her disapproval as she scooped it up. It wasn't a gun, but she would take what she could get.

Tucking it into the waistband of her pants, Raisa edged her head out into the hall. She continued into the barren walkways. Her window of opportunity was shrinking. Raisa knew she had to be off the boat with her little girl in hand before Iron Man arrived.

Stark would never let her walk off with Annika, not now that he'd turned her child into his spoiled, little princess. The man seemed to think that Annika belonged to him, as if he'd sired her, brought her into the world. Raisa curled her lip. The one good thing Stark had done was keep Annika out of government care, for that Raisa would let him live.

A set of stairs came into view as she rounded another corner and Raisa smiled. The ascent was painful, but each step brought her closer to the captain's quarters. Raisa reached to the small of her back to finger the catch on the knife's leather holster. She flicked it loose with her thumb and slid the blade free. The knife felt ungainly in her petite hand. She would rather have a pistol or a rifle. Growing up in rural Russia, she could shoot the eye of a rabbit from a field away. Never had she shied away from a firearm.

Raisa rotated the handle so the long blade ran alongside her wrist and forearm. The blunt edge fit against her skin, bracing it for slashing. As she neared Magneto's quarters, Raise peered into neighboring rooms. The area was empty. The navigation center was recently deserted, a map of the coastline crumpled under a fallen chair. While her distraction had been incredibly effective, Raisa knew it wouldn't last much longer.

She felt the body approaching her before he said a word. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she whirled, knife held just above her shoulder. The blade caught his throat.  
Arterial spray stained her face and arm, matting her hair. The mutant stumbled away, gripping the spurting wound. Raisa didn't know what his mutation was and she didn't want to give him the chance to recover. She followed him and put the knife between two of his vertebrae.

Spreading her hand on his trembling chest, Raisa forced the blade through his spine and drew it out as he went limp. She flicked the blood off the knife before continuing. It didn't matter if he stopped twitching, she'd have her daughter before he got up.

Raisa wiped her face with the edge of her sleeve. It came away wet. Red seeped through the faint pattern on the silk blouse, blotting out the pale roses. They were not clothes she would pick for herself, far too delicate for her taste. In her opinion, the blood improved them.

In a room near the end of the hall, Raisa found her. She could barely see the ends of Annika's shoes peeking out from beneath the table, but Magneto's daughter stood over her. Raisa's eyes darkened. From what she'd learned on the ship she knew Scarlet Witch was subdued and demure, and possibly one of the most dangerous mutants alive. The knife was useless against her, the woman's power limited only by her ability to control it. Raisa noted that the brother was not around. She kept the knife braced against her arm in case she found an opportunity to use it.

"Golovin, wait," Scarlet Witch lifted a palm to ward off Raisa as she circled like a hungry dog.

"I am done waiting. Your father told me to wait, that I would have her when my work was done, but my work will never be done as long as he sees use in me," Raisa snarled, brandishing the knife. "You will give her to me."

"I am not my father."

"It doesn't matter! You're all the same! Give me my daughter or I will find a way past those damn barriers of yours."

A whimper permeated the taut silence and Annika's feet slid out of sight. Worried Azazel had taken her, Raisa's eyes flicked around for any sign of red smoke. The air was clear. She could only assume her daughter was cowering in the far corner of the booth. She didn't dare take her attention off Scarlet Witch long enough to check.

The brunette mutant stepped back, removing herself from between Raisa and Annika, "No, we're not the same. She is your daughter and I don't believe we should be keeping her from you. Take her and go. There are a few rescue boats at the prow of the ship."

For a moment, Raisa didn't move but to readjust her grip on the handle of her weapon. "Why would you let me leave? Why should I trust that you won't call for you father the minute I step out that door?" she hissed, caution overtaking her need to grab Annika and run.

"My father never had any right to hold her hostage. She is a child, not a bargaining chip," Scarlet Witch replied. "If I wanted to, I could rearrange your genetic code without moving from this spot. I'm not going to stop you."

Raisa saw her point. Sliding the knife back in the sheath, she kept a wary eye on the willowy brunette as she knelt to get Annika out from beneath the table. Her child shrank farther against the wall, her face twisting with fear at Raisa's appearance. "It is only blood, love," Raisa assured her and reached a hand into her hiding place, "We have to go now."

Annika's lower lip trembled. She pulled her legs away from Raisa's grasping fingers, "I want to go home."

"We will find a place to call home, we-"

"No. I want Daddy," Annika sobbed. As soon as the words formed, her little girl clasped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes, so like Raisa's own, grew wide and glossy as tears brimmed along her lashes.

Something hot and wrathful coiled in Raisa's gut. She slapped her palm on the floor, "He is not your father! Your father is dead. Now come here!" As Annika's tears spilled out onto her cheeks, guilt ate a hole through Raisa's anger. Voice dropping to a soothing murmur, Raisa tentatively stroked Annika's knee with her fingertips, "Oh... oh... Mama's sorry, sweetheart. Mama's sorry, but we have to go. The dangerous people want to take you away from me again and we have to go before that can happen."

With a hiccup, Annika surged into her mother's arms. Raisa was at the door before she could finish burying her face against the clean side of her neck. Raisa sent one last glance at Scarlet Witch, but the other woman didn't follow. Sorrow overtook the mutant's features just before they rounded the corner.

Annika whispered, "Bye," and Scarlet Witch curled her fingers in a half-formed wave.

Raisa headed for the prow of the cargo ship, trying to calculate how much time she had left. Iron Man could break the sound barrier, but he'd be a fool to come alone. She hoped his backup would slow him down. Only a few minutes more and Raisa could disappear with her daughter, become another unassuming single mother in the United States of America. As she limped on, Raisa forgot her pain. She clutched her little girl to her chest and pressed her nose into her braided hair, "We'll be free soon, pet."

Annika hiccupped and continued to cry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Flying with two-hundred extra pounds of super soldier always proved challenging. Plus, Steve was the worst backseat flier in existence. As long as they were going slow enough that Steve could get a word out, he ordered Tony to fly higher or bank a certain way around Manhattan's taller buildings. Tony considered doing a barrel roll over the Hudson River so he wouldn't have to listen to it anymore.

Tony's HUD focused on a line of people coming out of a building. The logo of the storefront popped up on the corner of his screen, but he didn't pay much attention to it. There were other lines like it on several blocks of lower Manhattan. They sped out over the water before Tony gave it any thought. Their exit came close to a building, but Tony clipped walls when he was going fast enough and a few yards was not that close.

Steve didn't agree, "Tony!"

"Okay, Pepper. I get it, you don't like the way I fly, but it beats walking every day of the week, so knock it off," Tony growled and banked as they passed under the Brooklyn Bridge.

The anchoring legs of the Manhattan side of the bridge flashed by them. Steve twisted to look back at the structure. He had to shout over the rush of air, "You should get a little higher-"

"Then they'll spot us if they have radar. They're on a boat, Steve. I'd rather not announce our arrival before we land."

All Tony had were coordinates. If the Brotherhood managed to get a hold of anything with anti-aircraft cannons they could blast Iron Man out of the sky. Gold-titanium alloy might survive, depending on the caliber of the shell. Steve would be a fine red mist and not the kind that Azazel left behind when he teleported.

"Just stay low, we'll be there soon. Don't sit up or that shield will turn into a parachute," Tony griped at him.

Tension could set them at each other's throats too easily. Once worry and fear for their daughter joined the mix, Tony found they were as likely to argue as they were to meet on common ground. Mentally separating himself from it, Tony let go of his mounting aggravation with Steve. His husband was not the one he needed to focus on.

Out over open water, Tony slowed. His brow knit, "Jarvis review the footage from Manhattan."

"Reviewing now, but sir, what am I searching for?"

"Why are we stopping?" Steve asked as they hovered. The bigger man hooked one arm over Tony's shoulder to get a better grip.

Tony brought up the footage, trying to figure out what was eating at him. There was something going on. Magneto's riots were burning out, but there had to be more to his plan. The images fed through his screen. "Speed through it," Tony muttered.

"Sir, if I knew-"

"Just play it, Jarvis."

Steve went quiet as Tony studied the video. Thankfully, the man had learned to let him process when he was like this. Tony talked through his thoughts. It didn't matter whether or not Steve could hear him, "If they finished the serum, why not use it? Why spend all this time rallying troops... Jarvis, what are the lines of people for?"

"The new healthcare clinics opened early this morning, sir. According to the news and local media, they are offering free immunizations today," Jarvis flashed four or five different reports in the corner of his screen.

"Shit... Shit!" Tony's epiphany forced acid up his throat. "They're giving it to everyone!"

"What are you talking about? Tony, I'm only getting half the conversation here," Steve's voice filtered through his internal audio, the slight edge warning Tony that he wouldn't go much longer without an explanation.

Tony accessed Fury's private line and waited for the director to pick up, "I can't confirm it, not yet, but those low cost clinics opened early this morning, about the same time that all hell broke loose in the surrounding Burroughs-"

"Classic Raisa. Divert our focus and attack simultaneously."

"Exactly. They were drawing us out of Manhattan so they could infect a quarter of the city with whatever she's cooked up for Magneto," Tony heard the click on Fury's end when the director answered his call. "Fury, the riots are a farce. We should have known. Send every agent not working the riots to shut down the clinics opening today. They're on half the news channels. I think they may be giving Raisa's serum to the public."

Fury's end was silent for a moment before the director asked, "Are you sure about this, Stark?"

"I don't have any proof, but it's too much of a coincidence to ignore. We haven't seen the results of her work and she took enough blood from Steve to make an army," Tony said.

He hoped he was wrong because being right meant things were about to get a lot worse. There was no way to judge how long it would be for the serum to take effect. It could be a few hours before they saw her abominations, or it could be days. That was assuming she made the same type of serum. With Magneto involved, it could be anything. Tony would need samples before he could give Fury any insight.

"Fury, what do you need us to do?" Steve tapped into Tony's comm line, his icon appearing next to Fury's on Tony's screen.

Tony rotated his helmet as far as it would go so he could see Steve's face. His first instinct was to mute Fury and yell that they were going to get Annika back now and ask if Steve was crazy, but he pressed his lips together and stayed quiet. Tony knew the greater good of Manhattan, of a few million lives, had to come before their daughter. The fact was a knife in his chest. Tony wasn't sure if he could stand by that idea. If Steve wanted to stay behind, he'd let him, but Tony didn't think he had the strength to let his daughter slip away.

Without pause, Fury answered, "I want you to deal with Magneto. Bring him in for questioning if you can. Once we get him to talk, we'll know exactly what's going on in Manhattan. In the meantime, we'll deal with the clinics and try to round up those that have been injected."

Without warning, Tony rocketed in the direction of the coordinates. Steve shouted something he didn't catch and grabbed at his shoulders. Magneto's location pinpointed on his flight data, a yellow dot on his horizon line with a rapidly shrinking distance marker beside it.

"One more thing," Fury's voice came back on the line, "Dr. Banner is missing. If you see him, make sure you tell him he's in deep shit for disobeying my orders."

"No offense, Fury, but I don't think the Hulk gives a shit about your orders. Stark out," Tony disconnected, his eyes focused on the point in the distance.

If he believed in God, he would pray that Annika was all right, that she would be at the coordinates. He left that to Steve. If Annika wasn't there, he would spend every waking moment searching for her. And if something had happened to her, there was no god that could defend the guilty from Tony's retribution.

"Please," Tony whispered to no one, "Please let her be okay."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Annika's gut clenched in terror. White and bloodless, her fingers gripped the wet cloth of her mother's shirt. She twisted in Raisa's arms, her mind ricocheting sporadically against the technology in the ship. There were engines and radar equipment and cranes. She brushed across everything she could find searching for a way to contact her Daddy. Machines in every part of the ship flashed or revved as she passed through them.

At the helm, she found a variety of radios. They were old, mostly short wave. Annika found the transmitter and sent out bursts of panic. Her mind was stretched too thin across the ship to translate the message into words, her screams echoing out over the water without purpose.

Her mother jostled her and Annika snapped back into her body, blinking rapidly. Her head throbbed.

"We'll be fine. Mama will keep you safe," Raisa muttered a stream of nonsense, her words hollow comfort.

Whimpers of pain escaped Annika's throat as Raisa got to the upper deck. The sun cut through Annika's squint and danced with her headache, making it worse. Her mother's head swiveled constantly once they were out in the open. The bridge tower offered them some cover. It was one of the few points on the vast deck that wasn't visible from every angle. Raisa slipped around the corner and hurried to the covered boats at the head of the ship.

She set Annika on her feet before ripping the cover off one of the emergency skiffs. Annika walked to the rail. The ocean rippled and glistened for miles, more water than Annika had ever seen. Though she'd read about the ocean in books, she had a hard time believing that so much water could exist in one place. She curled her fingers around the rusted rail, her headache fading into the back of her mind as she stared. It was beautiful and terrifying.

She wondered what it would feel like beneath her feet. The density of water wasn't high enough to hold her weight, but she remembered the lake of grass in Central Park and how amazing it was to feel the blades of greenery between her toes.

"Mama, look," she breathed excitedly, her fear ebbing in the face of her wonder, "How far does it go? Isn't Europe on the other side? And Russia! Russia is over there!"

"Be quiet," her mother hissed and yanked her away from the side by her arm.

Raisa went back to the crank that operated the boat launch. The twelve-seat skiff rose off the deck and her mother unhooked the safety cables anchoring it to the bigger ship. It swung out over the water, the metal lines creaking as it rocked back and forth in the empty space. Raisa worked the crank with her whole body and brought the boat down so it was in line with the rail.

"Get in," her mother ordered as she locked the crank in place with a thick linchpin.

Annika couldn't move. Her eyes widened, staring at the men approaching from the far side of the bridge. Her voice barely more than a squeak, Annika said, "Mama..."

Raisa lifted her head, her face hardening when she saw the mutants. Two more came at them from the other direction, one soaked from throat to waistline with blood. Annika latched onto her mother's leg. Too frightened to tremble, Annika pressed her cheek against the fabric covering her mother's thigh and went still.

Raisa drew a large knife out of the waistband over her pants, holding it forward as a threat, "Stay back. Or-"

"Or you'll what, Mrs. Golovin?" Magneto stepped between his men, a smirk pulling his mouth to the side. The smile faded quickly and he lifted his hand. The knife ripped out of Raisa's fingers, drawn to Magneto by invisible lines of force. He caught the handle, "Will you attack us with this? This pathetic human weapon?"

The mutants laughed, the sound harsh and cruel.

Magneto silenced them with a glance, "The first phase has gone extremely well, but your work isn't done. Considering what you've done to your lab, you'll be facing some major setbacks if you expect to finish the next batch in time."

Raisa growled something at him in Russian, a word Annika wasn't familiar with, and spit at his feet, "I am done with you and your Brotherhood. I am no one's pet, Lensherr. If you want obedience, find a dog to do your work."

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation you're in, my dear," Magneto released the knife, his gaze fixed on Raisa as the blade levitated above his palm.

Annika watched the knife drift until the tip aimed at her mother's chest. Her breathing hitched and she screamed, "Don't hurt Mama!"

Reaching into the nearest tech her brain could find, Annika overworked the circuits and energy cells of the bridge equipment. The windows above their heads exploded outward with tongues of fire. A bite of ozone and burning plastic traced the air.

Annika's headache spiked as she dropped back into her flesh body. Her legs wobbled under her, but she stayed standing. A mutant in a dark gray jacket took a deep breath and blew the falling debris out over the water.

"Interesting," Magneto murmured, his hard eyes lighting up as they fixed on Annika. "She's one of us."

Annika shrank back and hid her face behind her mother's leg. She didn't see Magneto coming closer, only hearing her mother's feral scream as Raisa grabbed a wooden oar out of the skiff. Suddenly, Annika's hiding place was gone, her mother charging Magneto with the oar held back like a baseball bat. Raisa swung and Annika felt Magneto's power rise. The knife left his orbit. A wet sound cut through her mother's yell.

Ice crackled down Annika's spine. The oar fell from Raisa's hand, a gurgling, unnatural sound emitting from her mother's mouth. When she fell, Raisa rolled onto her back. Her eyes searched the air blindly, her lips moving without words. Blood foamed near the corners of Raisa's mouth.

Annika knew death. She knew what it looked like, that humans and animals unraveled in the same way when death came to them. As knowledgeable as she was, she couldn't process her mother's final moments. Annika looked at Magneto, her face blank.

"Start a search for a biologist that can pick up where she left off. The notes on her hard drive should be enough to go on," Magneto stepped over Raisa, the toe of his boot nicking the knife in her chest. It jerked Raisa's body and her head lolled to the side to face Annika. "I'll take the girl back to Wanda. She's proving to be a much better asset than her mother."

As his hands extended to pick her up, Annika screamed. Her mind bolted from her body. The circuits and complex mechanisms accepted her and drew her in. Her mother's face was all she could see, blood pooling beneath her cheek, her dark mane of hair a matted mess that clung to her skin. Annika expanded everywhere.

Her body stopped screaming, but her dead eyes stayed fixed on Erik Lensherr. The strain sent blood oozing out of Annika's nose and ears. There was no pain in the machines. She found them all, every piece of electrical equipment, every engine, every scrap of mechanical workmanship that had kinetic potential, and she overheated them.

The main boiler exploded many levels beneath their feet. As water rushed into the gaping tear in the hull, Annika moved to the next engine and the next. On the deck, the cargo cranes erupted at the base. One leaned to the left and brought the weight of the boat with it. The cargo ship listed. Water churned and frothed white as part of the ship lifted into the air.

Annika's body fell to the deck. Mutants screamed all around her, but she couldn't hear them. "Stop her! Fucking kill her," they shouted as they scrambled to keep their footing.

Her lifeless form rolled toward the side. As the grade of the deck steepened, she slid more quickly. A few mutants reached for her, but wouldn't forsake their handholds to catch her. Annika's body hit the rail, her arm and leg hanging out over the water.

Magneto ran to the main deck. Her consciousness followed him through the parts of the ship that were still intact. Bracing his boot against a wall to stay upright, Magneto lifted both hands toward the crane. His power coiled around the main strut. Magneto lowered his head and curled his fingers. The metal compacted in on itself with a scream. Weakened, the arm of the crane buckled under its own weight. It wrenched free, the boat snapping upright as the massive crane dropped into the ocean.

Burning oil and fuel spread through the boat. Annika felt the heat popping circuits like firecrackers. Her world shrank as the fires raged. She pulled her mind away from the destroyed technology and rushed to her body. Magneto beat her there, hoisting the battered sack of flesh by the front of her dress. Annika hesitated. There was nowhere else to go. If she stayed in the wiring, she'd die with the ship.

Annika tried to slip into her body, but pain seared through her. She cried out and curled in a nearby security camera. Through the mechanical eye, she watched Magneto peer into her human face. The dark smears of blood coming from her body's eyes and ears terrified her. She didn't understand why it hurt so much to renter her body. Here in the machine, there was no pain, not from her physical body or from the loss of her mother. There was only electricity and the never-ending pulse of ones and zeroes.

Magneto dropped her to the deck, muttering, "What a waste." He turned to his ragged handful of men, "Abandon ship. If you can fly, take someone with you. The rest of you get these boats lowered."

Annika felt the fires approaching. She huddled in the battery-powered camera, knowing it would only be a matter of time before that too died.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve's eyes watered from the force of the wind in his face. After their talk with Fury, Tony doubled his speed. Where he got close enough to the surface of the ocean, a white ravine of water exploded into the air. The wake shot up almost fifteen feet and left the ocean turbulent in their passing. Steve tightened his grip on Tony's shoulders, trying to keep his back slanted forward so the shield wouldn't catch any air.

A dark smear grew on the horizon. It was difficult to make out when Steve was squinting into the wind, but the plume of black smoke rising above the spec was hard to miss. As they got closer, Steve could see the fires raging on the deck. It was a massive ship, a cargo freighter that held thousands of steel containers. This one was devoid of crates and the crane lay in pieces on the deck.

It felt like someone socked Steve in the stomach, hard. He could scarcely catch his breath when he realized that Annika was supposed to be on the ship with her mother. "My god," he whispered, his voice lost on the wind.

They circled the burning ship and Steve spotted Magneto and several of his men crossing a stretch of untouched deck. "There!" he shouted, pointing at them.

"I see them," Tony confirmed and veered toward the boat.

Steve dropped off the moment they were close enough. Slinging his shield off his back, he held it up to slow his descent and landed in Magneto's path. Tony slammed onto the deck beside him, palms raised and repulsors hot. The handful of men with Erik retreated several steps, but Erik sighed as if having two Avengers show up at his base of operations was merely an inconvenience.

"Give us the girl," Tony's amplified voice held as much threat as the whirring hand cannons. "Now."

"Humans never learn," Magneto smirked and twitched his fingers in Tony's direction. The smile died when Tony didn't move.

A blast of pale energy blackened the ground at Erik's feet and Tony growled, "Actually, I pick things up extremely fast. It's graphene and has no magnetic properties. Now, where is Annika?"

"Take him alive, if you can," Steve reminded him as he slipped his arm into place at the back of his shield.

It was much easier to promise that they'd bring Lensherr to Fury when they weren't standing in front of him. Every muscle in Steve's back and neck stood out from the effort restrain himself from taking the old man apart. This man had used Tony as an example, hurt him to prove a point, he'd sent his people into their home and taken their daughter, and he'd brought civilians into the line of fire to draw them into the open. Steve was beginning to think leaving him alive was one promise he would struggle to keep.

Magneto sneered and crossed his arms over his chest. Directing his words at his men, he ordered, "Kill them."

No one moved. Steve could nearly smell the fear on the foot soldiers. Four of them against Captain America and Iron Man were not good odds, no matter what their powers were. A man in a ragged denim jacket broke and ran, making it three against two. Tony shifted his aim between them in case one of them decided to attack.

"I called for gods, not insects. Kill them! If you cannot handle two humans, what makes you think you can call yourselves members of the Brotherhood?"

"Looks like your backup isn't going to cooperate," Steve said when the remaining men continued to stare at them in terror.

Magneto curled his lip at his men. His best were in the Burroughs of New York. The decision to leave him with the bottom of the barrel showed a lack of foresight, but Steve didn't want to underestimate Lensherr. The mutant was a force of his own.

Tossing his cape over his shoulders, Erik barked, "Cowards." He ignored his cronies as they ran, turning to Steve and Tony, "As they say, when you want something done..."

Somewhere below them, an explosion rattled the boat. Fire plumed out of a broken cargo hatch in the center of the deck. Steve adjusted his feet, widening his stance when he noticed that the ship was listing. Burning fuel rained off the side. Pockets of it floated on the surface of the ocean, pouring black smoke like emergency signals. The behemoth pieces of crane slid toward the drooping edge, banging across the deck as they picked up speed.

Magneto raised his arms and lifted into the air. Firing off two blasts from the repulsors, Tony burst into flight to follow. A rent chunk of metal from the ship crossed in front of Lensherr. The blasts of energy struck the barrier, leaving blackened craters. As Magneto went higher, bits of the ship tore loose and entered orbit around the mutant.

Steve ran across the slanted surface as his husband darted through the floating maze of metal. He heard something connect, his eyes flicking up in time to see Tony falling end over end. Tony got his hands aimed in the opposite direction of his tumble and bolted skyward. There was so little deck left that Steve had to focus on his footing or risk falling into the lower levels. With the comm connection open, Tony's every grunt and aggravated scream came through Steve's helmet.

The area around the crane was mostly clear. Steve dodged lingering patches of fire, his boots sliding on the wet surface. Above him, white and red bursts lit up the ship. Tony shot everything in his way, but even the fragments of broken metal became projectiles. The liquid nature of Magneto's barrier allowed it to close up wherever Tony attacked.

Long, ragged pipes peeled away from the mass, darting at Tony. He kicked off a hunk of deck and spiraled away. The shanks of handrail tailed him like heat-seeking missiles. Steve's heart hammered in his ears as Tony tried and failed to shoot them down. Erik's fingertips tracked Tony, his field of metal parting so he could see his target.

Shouldering his shield, Steve leapt onto the remnants of crane and started climbing. He vaulted up the latticework of crossbeams. It brought him up behind Lensherr, though there was a massive gap of empty air between the crane and the barrier. The jump to Magneto was impossible, even for Steve, but he had his eyes set on a wide swath of metal hovering at the lowest end of the orbit. The higher Steve climbed, the more certain he became that he couldn't miss his target. Almost four stories above the deck, Steve stopped looking down.

Tony curved his flight path and a few pieces of shrapnel connected with his side. His cry of pain froze Steve, but Tony killed power and rolled under the others, putting his rockets on full burn once the shards darted past him. Iron Man shot toward the wall of metal. It congealed in front of Magneto, thinning at his back.

Steve scrambled up the last few feet to the twisted framework where the crane ended. The red heat of Tony's cutting lasers seared through layers of the wall, weakening the structure. Tony followed it up with a continuous blast from the repulsors. As he reached the first sheet of metal, Tony crossed his arms in front of his helmet and crashed through. He lost his momentum, cussing as Magneto's defenses tightened.

Picking the only beam that looked strong enough to hold his weight, Steve settled into a crouch. A running start was optimum, but there was no room. Steve judged the distance. It would be close. With a burst of strength, he launched into the air. His fingers spread into stars and he stretched out as far as he could. The sheet of metal rotated. It drifted away from him. Baring his teeth, Steve caught the edge. His body swung wildly as the surface dipped under his weight.

Magneto turned, but Tony shattered the barrier with his chest cannon. Getting a hold with his other hand, Steve easily hoisted himself onto the hunk of ship. His boots clanged across the surface and he jumped to the next piece. Tony shoved through the last of the debris, his armor sparking at the elbow and hip joints with all the damage he'd taken.

As Tony drew his fist back, Magneto smiled. Tony's gasp cut Steve to the quick. Hanging off a curved piece of siding, Steve lifted his head to analyze what would cause that kind of sharp, surprised pain.

"Did you forget your war wound?" Lensherr asked, sounding smug, "Or did you think those shards would be too small for me to manipulate?"

A strangled noise filtered from Tony's suit and his fist went slack. Steve swung onto a cylinder block from a big engine. Running purely on instinct, he yanked his shield off his back. He threw it at Magneto with a shout. The mutant dismissively flicked a hand at it, but the spinning disk didn't stop. It clattered through the floating fragments, the leading edge striking Lensherr's side.

Steve had a breath to wonder why Erik couldn't catch the vibranium before the engine dropped from beneath his feet. Everything fell with him. Magneto's barrier crumbled, metal falling toward the ship as meteors. Steve's stomach slammed into his throat. Even as he hurtled through the air, he searched the hailstorm for his husband.

"Tony!" he called. "Tony, answer me!"

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TBC…


	15. Splinters of a Brotherhood

A/N: Hello, my patient darlings. To give you an idea of what's going on and why you're waiting for me, I finally found a full-time job. It severely limits my writing time, but at least I have survivable income now. Yay.

I ended up breaking the finale into two parts because I was already on page seventeen when I normally cut a chapter around page ten. The rest is so close to being done that I'm considering working on it tonight until it's finished, but you're certainly goin to see it in the next few days.

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When Tony opened his eyes, he was face down on a pile of debris. His chest throbbed beneath the reactor. Never did he consider that Magneto would be able to reach shards no bigger than grains of rice. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and coughed, the sound wet and rattling in his lungs. The second cough sent flecks of blood across the inside of his helmet.

"Tony?!" Steve's worried voice sounded through his speaker as strong hands wrapped around him. His husband lifted him to his feet, leaving one arm around his middle as he manually opened Tony's faceplate.

Tony blinked into the sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, he did a sweep for Magneto. The destroyed deck was covered in scrap metal. Lighter pieces bounced to the left and off the side of the boat, the larger chunks sliding slowly.

"Answer me, are you alright?" Steve touched his face through the narrow hatch, running his gloved thumb over the corner of Tony's mouth to wipe away the blood. "Tony, are you with me?"

Tony lifted his eyes to Steve's face, "Where's Magneto?"

"He's down. I got him."

Tony gripped Steve's arms to steady himself, his body shaking under the armor. They'd been extremely high above the deck. Even in the Iron Man, a fall like that was deadly if he landed the wrong way. Tony continued to search the debris for Magneto's body. He had to know for sure that the mutant was dead.

"It was stupid. Stupid," Tony muttered and broke away from Steve to keep looking. "Should've thought about the shrapnel. So damn stupid." Another cough built in his chest, forcing him to stop and double over while he hacked up more blood. He spit and watched as the red smeared across the slanted floor.

As soon as he stopped, Steve was there, supporting his weight, "Did he do any permanent damage?"

"No," Tony croaked and straightened. "I'm fine."

"You're coughing up-"

"Steve, it's fine. There's less coming up every time, so it's clotting. He didn't get a chance to do anything worse. Now, we don't have a lot of time. This ship is going down fast. If she's here, we have to find her."

Steve looked like he might argue. The soldier opened his mouth, his blue eyes full of concern, but he pressed his lips together and nodded. "You're right," he conceded.

Tony cupped his hand over the reactor and coughed again. The taste of copper coated his mouth. It was worse than he let on, but it always was. They shared a look and Tony could see that Steve already knew what he was hiding. The soldier was too observant for Tony to slip anything by him.

Tony broke away from Steve's eyes and glanced around for the best route into the underbelly, "We need to be quick about this. If she's here, she's probably in one of the cabins. We should-"

Part of the deck peeled back, curling up on itself like a burning leaf. As Magneto rose from the shredded hull, Steve put a hand on Tony's chest and backed away from the mutant. Tony flipped his visor into place with a clank, the targeting system honing in on Magneto as soon as it came online. Lensherr clutched at a bloody gash on his side, his lips drawn back in a snarl. He lifted one hand, the other laying limp by his thigh, and hoisted an arsenal of metal off the broken deck.

"Get out of here," Steve ordered as he ran for his shield. When Tony didn't move, the soldier raised his voice, "Go! Now! Find Annika and get off the ship."

Tony hesitated, his stomach churning. Another explosion plumed from the portholes near the back of the boat. The Iron Man suit adjusted automatically to the growing pitch of the deck. A steeper slope loaned itself to Steve's sprint. The soldier scooped up his shield and careened toward Magneto, easily leaping the hunks of metal the mutant projected at him.

"Sir, at my estimation, the ship will be under water in less than twenty minutes," Jarvis informed him and displayed the data on the screen.

Tony leapt into motion, "Got it. Run a scan to find the heat signatures-" Tony stopped before he finished. Jarvis wouldn't be able to detect the lower temperature of a human body with the fires raging in the engine room. The heat would throw everything off, "Never mind. We're going to have to do this manually. Scan for sound, any levels of it. Import Annika's voice signatures from the tower."

Turning the speaker on full, Tony dropped through the nearest stairwell. The floor dented where he landed. Tony shouted, "Annika," the speaker amplifying his voice ten-fold to send it hammering through the halls. He watched the feedback monitor out of the corner of his eye, but all it picked up was the fight above him.

Tony shoved open every door he found, locked or not. Through offices, map rooms, and mess halls, Tony saw only chaos. Anything that wasn't bolted down ended up crowded against the wall. There were no signs of other mutants. Tony traded to his thrusters when the floor grew too steep to keep his footing. "Annika!" he screamed, his heart pounding as he bolted to the next level.

Sparks were the only light in the floor below. Reminded of the building where Tony found his little girl, he flipped to night vision and entered the darkness. Where his feet touched down, his boots slid. Tony grabbed a bulkhead as he passed the first door and used small bursts from the thrusters to get through the slanted doorframe. Barren bunks stared back at him.

"Annika! Are we getting any readings, Jarvis?"

"Nothing yet, sir. There are additional voices on the deck, but Annika is not among them," the computer sounded oddly sympathetic, undoubtedly detecting his sky-high stress level. Tony didn't need sympathy he needed results.

As the ship finally capsized, Tony clanged into the wall. His graphene armor scraped over the chipping paint when he pushed himself upright. A chair crashed through one of the open doors, shattering a few feet from him.

"Other voices?" Tony asked, gritting his teeth as his bad shoulder sent fresh jolts of pain through him. "Please tell me we got our backup."

"No. According to my data, Azazel, Mystique, and Pyro have joined Magneto on the deck."

Tony cursed. Steve could hold his own, but neither of them were planning on dealing with the rest of the Brotherhood. Tony cursed the shrapnel in his chest and he cursed the size of the ship. Annika could be anywhere.

"Sir, the ship is taking on water more quickly now. My initial estimation could be off by-"

"Can it, Jarvis. I get it we're sinking. Focus on finding Annika," Tony bit out before coughing heavily. He jerked his head to snap the faceplate up, spitting blood on the wall. The dark puddle rolled between his feet toward the back of the ship. Tony figured the engine room was flooding. It was only good news because the fires would go out soon.

He wanted to ask what percent of the ship was already under water, but he decided he didn't want to know. There was too much to search without wondering if his little girl had drowned. Tony switched power to the thrusters again, darting from one side of the hall to the other. He checked every room, searched every cubby and corner he could find. His screams for Annika were desperate in his helmet, but emotionless as they left his suit.

A flash of red light filled the hall. Tony lifted his hand repulsors to slow down, his screen darkening to try to adjust to the glare. He knew the energy spike before Scarlet Witch materialized in the nexus. Her cape swirled around her body, her eyes glowing white. The mutant floated in the sloped hall, her power blackening the walls.

"Son of a-" Tony growled and charged his weapons.

His heart sunk into his guts as Wanda's cape slid off the still form in her arms. Annika's head lolled to the side, her beautiful green eyes vacant and bloodshot when they pointed in Tony's direction. One bare foot crossed over the other patent leather saddle shoe, a long rip running through her stockings from her knee to ankle. Annika's hair hung in limp strands across her face. Tony's first urge was to reach out and push it back. It was always getting in her way.

Tony's vision blurred. The whir of his repulsor peaked and he aimed the glowing port at Scarlet Witch, his voice quiet and level, "What did you do to her?"

The dark-haired woman wept silently. She whispered, "I'm so sorry..."

"What did you do to her?!" Tony screamed, sending a warning shot hissing over her head. The white-blue blast traveled down the long hall, slamming into water when it reached the end.

The mutant didn't raise her barrier to defend herself. She came closer, holding his broken daughter out. Voice cracking, she repeated, "I'm so sorry. My father is a monster... He... I should've stayed with her..."

After several moments, Tony cut power to his hand cannons. He took Annika, choking on the air in his lungs when he slid the hair off her face. The delicate features he'd spent the last year learning were caked in blood. It crusted under her nose and down her lips and chin, smaller rivulets dried at the corners of her eyes. Tony clutched her to his chest and made a retched sound deep in his throat.

"Annika, oh god," Tony murmured brokenly as he brushed his armored fingers across her cheek. "Baby girl?"

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Steve was silently grateful when Tony listened to him for once and left the fight with Magneto. There was already damage in the billionaire's chest and Steve didn't want to see Lensherr get a hold of the shards again. Dealing with the powerful mutant alone wasn't easy. With two of them, they could thin Magneto's metal barrier. Alone, Steve felt the full brunt of Magneto's capability.

The steep grade of the deck had Steve struggling to keep his footing while he dodged around Magneto's attacks. He kept his shield close, fearing that it would skitter over the rail and into the approaching ocean.

"Give it up, Erik. Your ship is sinking, we know about the clinics, and your uprising is breaking apart. You're done," Steve shouted as he raised his shield to block a water gauge from hitting his chest.

Magneto spread his hands and lifted higher into the air. As he gravitated out of Steve's reach, a plume of red smoke misted near the prow. Azazel appeared with Mystique to his right and Pyro on his left. They slid on the deck, the youngest yelling, "What the fuck?" as he grabbed a cargo winch to steady himself. Mystique shifted her weight easily and spread her feet to accommodate the forty-five degree angle.

"Erik," she called, sprinting toward them.

Magneto's orbiting shrapnel stilled and he gave Steve a half-formed smile, "You're right about one thing, Captain. The ship is sinking, but the Brotherhood is not done. I can't say the same for you."

With a feral scream, Mystique swung a high kick at Steve's head. He ducked underneath it. Before he could recover and strike back, she slipped around the edge of his shield and punched his stomach. Steve grunted. For how small Mystique was, she hit harder than he expected.

In close quarters, she moved around his attacks like living liquid. Steve was fast, but she was faster. He leapt away for space, his heel skidding on either water or blood. His balance pitched back and she was there.

The mutant came in low, kicking his feet out from under him. As Steve fell, she braced her hands on his chest and somersaulted over him, shoving him down. Azazel snatched Mystique in mid-leap, both vanishing in red smoke. Unable to stop his tumble, Steve rolled along the deck. Water rushed up and swallowed the far rail. The boat finally slammed onto its side, sending up whitecap waves like cresting tsunamis.

Steve's body left the ship when the deck was vertical. His outstretched hand caught the rail from a set of stairs. It shattered under his weight. Using his shield to cup the rushing air, Steve rotated and snagged a dangling piece of steel line. It snapped taught, dragging through his glove. The friction heat made him grit his teeth. When he stopped, Steve swung wildly above the rising water. He was close enough to hear the hiss of overheated metal dipping into the ocean.

Steve lifted his head. At what was now the top of the ship, the Brotherhood stood looking down at him. Mystique walked to Magneto while Pyro formed a ball of fire between his hands. The kid's grin was unmistakable. No matter what Bobby said to him, Steve was certain the kid wasn't going to change. Pryo was too dark to turn his back on the Brotherhood. Lifting the flames above his head, the mutant hurled it in Steve's direction.

"Perfect," Steve muttered, pushing off of the deck with both feet. The line groaned, but the fire seared by him. Before he landed, Pyro threw another. Steve raised his shield. The flames spread around the concave surface, singeing his uniform.

Steve cast around for options. The water was rising to meet him and fire rained down on him. He couldn't climb if he had to keep his shield up. Off to his right was the indented portion of the deck where the shipping containers were normally stacked. There were rows of locking guide rails. Some had been ripped loose by Magneto, but there were enough to work with.

Blocking another blast of flame, Steve dug his toes in and ran. His body leaned at a diagonal, the line wrapped around his hand creaking as he used his momentum to arc upward toward the guide rails. Wave after wave of Pyro's fire followed in his wake. When he was close enough, Steve let go of the line and vaulted to the cargo space. He dug his fingers between two rails with a shout, his body weight falling on the wedged digits.

As he struggled to get his feet under him, a ball of fire slammed into the deck near his head. Steve turned his face away from the heat. High above him, he heard Pyro laugh and say something to the others, and then another burst of flame hit on Steve's other side. He curled his body against the surface of the ship to keep his front from getting burned. The ultra-light Kevlar was made to stop bullets, not fire. Steve cried out through clenched teeth. His back stung, throbbing after the flames guttered out.

"Leave him, Pyro. We should be gone before the SHIELD ants swarm this place," Magneto ordered, his voice carrying with authority.

Seizing his chance, Steve jumped for the next rail. His boots scraped on the solid surface, finding no traction. Steve tensed and pulled himself up with his arms instead. He paused to sling his shield onto his back and kept climbing.

Azazel leaned over the edge of the boat, "He'll be trouble for us later if we don't deal with him now." The red-skinned mutant looked back at Magneto, his narrow tail whipping the air in tight arcs.

Magneto joined him near the side, scowling down at Steve as if he was a cockroach in the middle of a dinner party. With a flick of his hand he ripped up rows of metal sheeting from around him. The scream of taxed metal was deafening. Steve watched with wide eyes as the gigantic panels of rust, flecked siding floated through the air and lowered into position behind him.

Leaping for the next handhold, Steve scaled the boat with a sense of desperation. As the metal plates tracked with his movements, he knew he had to find an escape route. He looked into the churning water. The undertow would suck him down, but there was a chance he was strong enough to out-swim it.

Steve bared his teeth and tensed for the drop. Before he could release the rail, a massive roar shook the ship and everyone on it. Steve laughed, the sound relieved, but cracking with his tension. He'd never been so happy to hear that roar in his life. The boat shook as the Hulk slammed onto the upturned side. Magneto twisted, the metal plates falling into the water when his concentration shattered.

The mutants vanished from the edge, their shouts the only way for Steve to judge their location. He resumed his climb. It was simpler without the rain of fire and the shifting metal pieces threatening to crush him. Steve made it to the top in less than thirty seconds, moving his shield to his arm as he jumped into the fight.

The Brotherhood had Hulk surrounded, the Avenger lashing out at whoever came closest. Steve could see Banner's rage working against him. Azazel flashed in and out of reach and drew his attention while Pryo seared him with a continuous blast of fire. Raising his meaty hand to block his face, Hulk snarled as he peered through the flames. He charged Pyro, letting his thick skin deal with the heat.

The young brunet let his hands fall. Fear replaced his smirk as the green mass of muscle stampeded toward him. He vanished in a plume of red smoke and left Hulk punching dents in the slick hull where he'd been standing. Depositing Pyro near Magneto, Azazel reappeared in front of Hulk to lure him away from the others. The mass of Hulk's shoulders corded as he roared at the teleporter.

Spotting Magneto lift his good arm, Steve threw his shield and charged in behind it. Lensherr's helmet rotated enough for Steve to see one amused eye. A blur of green snatched the disk from the air. When the shape slowed enough for Steve to track, Quicksilver slid along the wet hull with Steve's shield between his palms. The white haired speedster grinned and slotted the scarred disk onto his arm.

Before Steve could blink, the shield hit him in the center of his chest with the force Quicksilver's speed behind it. Air rushed from his lungs. His feet left the ground and Steve flew across the ship. The metal rang where he bounced. As he slid past Hulk, the big creature snatched his arm and lifted him to his feet.

"Thanks," Steve coughed, eyeing Quicksilver as the mutant circled them.

Steve straightened and dragged air into his battered chest. Nothing felt cracked, but he could never tell until they took a scan. Normally, by the time they x-rayed him, his breaks were nearly healed.

He didn't know how long they could hold off five of them. If Hulk could keep his head and not let Azazel spoil him up, they might be able to manage it.

"Tony, tell me you've found her," Steve gasped into the microphone. "Could use some good news."

While he waited for an answer, everything exploded into motion. Quicksilver streaked across the hull while Azazel and Mystique approached them head on. With a bellow, Hulk charged. As he reached the pair, Azazel grinned and vanished and Mystique folded into a crouch and slipped under Banner's legs. The blue of her skin darkened. Red and white stripes crawled across her stomach and her structure grew. Hard angles replaced soft curves, the uniform ripped and burned in all the right places.

Steve gaped at a carbon copy of himself. He opened his mouth to shout, but Quicksilver slowed in front of him to slam the edge of the shield into his stomach. As Hulk turned with his fist raised, Steve was too busy doubling over to say anything. He reached for Quicksilver's ankle and his hand closed on empty air.

When Hulk found Captain America behind him and not a mutant, his bushy brows came together. Mystique flinched back slightly, yelling in his voice, "Woah! Hulk, it's me. Focus, buddy. We need to work together on this."

The shriek of metal drew Steve's eyes to Magneto. A long, narrow strip of hull floated before his hand. Azazel appeared beside him and took the makeshift spear before vanishing again. Steve tried to get up and felt the convex curve of his shield ram against his spine. He fell forward onto one knee, his palms slapping the boat. He forced out, "Banner, don't-" before Quicksilver punched his jaw and made him swallow the words.

Hulk raised his head, confusion and anger building as he saw Steve. Veins jumped out on his neck and shoulders and he glared down at Mystique. It was a step in the right direction. There had to be enough of Banner in him to determine which one was real.

Steve's hope crashed as she explained, "They're trying to trick you. It's Mystique. Focus on me, big guy."

Tony's voice came over the comm, thick with grief, and Steve's gut clenched, "I found her..."

It was all Tony said, but Steve knew. His hands fisted, the images Jarvis displayed at the tower flashing into his mind. The hologram of Annika's fear swallowed his logic. It replaced his need to survive with a hot, seething rage that burned through him. A scream ripped from his throat, feral and raw.

Above Banner, Azazel materialized with the metal shank. A flash of movement blurred behind Magneto and Pyro. Steve managed to follow the mutant's change in direction and knew Quicksilver was coming back. With only a split second to think, Steve shouted, "Hulk!" As soon as he had the green Avenger's eyes, he pointed at the hull, "Smash."

Grinning wildly, Hulk hoisted his fists above his head and hit Azazel in the side. The long piece of metal he had aimed at Banner's head clattered to the ground and rolled away while the teleporter cried out and vanished. Banner didn't seem to notice he'd touched anything.

With a loud, "Smash!" Hulk slammed his fists into the side of the ship. The metal rippled with the force of the strike. It threw everyone off balance. Mystique stumbled away and shifted to her normal blue, ridged skin. Seams opened in the hull, steam hissing through.

As Steve hoped, Quicksilver fell when the shockwave hit him. Steve was on him before he could get up. He ripped the shield from his hand and hauled him up by the back of his neck.

Quicksilver punched his shoulder as he struggled, but without his speed to build force behind it, it was no more than an average man could do. Lip curling, Steve held him up for Magneto to see. Nothing registered on the old man's face. Even the faint worry in his eyes was something Steve could've imagined. The others looked to Magneto. Azazel still hadn't reappeared, so their numbers were dropping quickly.

The ship groaned and the angle of their remaining battleground tilted. Steve didn't care. He barely noticed. All he could see was Magneto. Even Hulk stilled to watch.

"If I were you, I would kill him to get even. Maybe I should. Your son for my daughter, would that be even?" Steve said, gripping the handles of his shield to contain the edges of his rage.

The corner of Magneto's mouth ticked and he replied, "But you're not me, are you, Captain? At least, you hope."

"He killed her?" disbelief and remorse tinted Pietro's question, so soft only Steve could hear him. When Steve didn't answer, Quicksilver yelled at his father, "You swore you wouldn't hurt her. You swore to Wanda. We weren't in this to kill little girls!"

Between them, the hull began to glow in a seven-foot circumference. Steve set the speedster on his feet and brought his shield in front of him. As the metal melted away, a bright ball of energy lifted from within the ship. Steve had to squint against the glare, but he recognized Scarlet Witch's power.

The energy faded to a soft, reddish hue. In the center, Scarlet Witch floated with her arms outstretched and her eyes gleaming white. Beside her, Tony held Annika's limp body. Steve took a step forward, his breath going to ash in his mouth. There was no life in her gold-green eyes. He knew, but he wasn't prepared for it.

"Dear God," he murmured as a prayer, not a curse. "Please, please... let her live."

Tony touched down and Steve momentarily abandoned his anger, rushing over to examine their daughter. With Tony's gauntlets, he couldn't check her properly, but Steve wanted him armed. As he approached, Steve took off one glove with his teeth. He hesitated with his fingers hovering over Annika's pale skin.

"Jarvis can't get any readings off her, I don't have that equipment in this suit," Iron Man's metallic voice told him without a hint of turmoil. Steve knew it was there under the mask, all the same terror and worry he had churning in his stomach. His index and middle finger traced across her delicate neck for a pulse.

Hulk huddled in beside them. With more gentility than Steve thought he was capable of, he brushed the back of his knuckles across Annika's knee. Steve kept searching. His panic rose like bile when he couldn't find even a faint flutter.

Hulk tossed his head back and roared. Beating his chest, Hulk set his sights on the Brotherhood. He charged across the battered ship. Within arm's reach of Magneto, Hulk hit a force field. The brute shook his head and screamed his frustration. He battered the field with both fists, sending up sparks of red energy everywhere his hands connected.

On the other side, Magneto smiled. His daughter walked through the energy field to stand beside him. As he opened his mouth to speak, she said, "No. Enough. Enough words, enough lies. Pietro and I are done."

Barely giving them a fraction of his attention, Steve tore his mask off and shoved it back onto his shoulders. He pressed his ear to Annika's chest. So faint even his breathing muffled it was the sound of her heart. It was weak, but it gave Steve hope.

"She's alive," he whispered and closed his eyes.

What little relief it gave him washed away in the surf of priorities and tasks. He sat up and put a hand on the side of Tony's helmet, looking into the glow of the machine's eyes, "She's alive, but barely. Take her to the helicarrier since it's closest. When you're in range, have them send back a transport for me and Banner."

Tony lifted her and brought her closer to his chest. The glow of the arc lit her features in white, making her look paler. Instead of taking off, Tony told him, "They won't get here before the ship goes under. Steve-"

Gripping the armor's shoulder, Steve ordered, "Just go. She needs help now. Let me worry about the rest of it."

Tony nodded and jumped into the air, his rockets engaging with a whine. As his husband and daughter sped toward the horizon, Steve felt the heat of rage build in his chest. He set his jaw and glared at the battered collection of mutants. Hulk paced along Scarlet Witch's wall of energy, testing the integrity every few steps with a punch or kick.

Fitting his hood and mask back in place, Steve joined Hulk at the barrier. He stood with his feet spread and his shield centered in front of his body. He watched Magneto through the force field, waiting calmly for his chance to strike. The threat in his eyes spoke for him. If he had anything to do with it, Magneto would not come back alive.

"You can't walk away," Lensherr snarled at his daughter. "You are part of the Brotherhood. Both of you are-"

"We will leave. If this is what the Brotherhood is, then I want no part of it. Pietro will go where I go," she said with confidence.

Steve checked over his shoulder for Quicksilver and found him standing just behind him. The silver-haired youth had no interest in him, only in the fight between his family members. He gave no argument when Wanda spoke for him, so Steve knew what she said was true. It made his fight easier. Steve could let Hulk handle Pyro and Mystique, but Lensherr was his.

"Let them go, we don't need them," Mystique said, looking Scarlet Witch from head to toe. She made no effort to hide her disdain.

Magneto snapped, "Silence, Raven," and the shape shifter dropped her arms to her sides with wide eyes. He took a step into Wanda's personal space and lowered his voice, "The Brotherhood took you in. Consider your next words carefully. You owe me-"

"We owe you nothing!" she shouted.

Hulk backed away from the barrier, his scattered attention going to the approaching water. It lapped near the edge of the ship, swelling over the lower portion as the ship tilted toward the flooded engine rooms. The ocean churned around them. Hulk huffed and crowded against Steve. It was strange behavior, but Steve was more interested in the outcome of the argument.

Scarlet Witch stepped away from Magneto and through her force field. As her brother put an arm around her shoulders, she repeated, "We owe you nothing."

Pyro's head gyrated quickly as he noticed the water, "Where's Azazel? Is he coming back?"

No one answered him. Lensherr and his daughter locked eyes through the barrier. She let her lashes fan across her cheeks and raised her hands, "If I owe you nothing else, I owe you life."

Energy gathered and coalesced at the tips of her fingers, shrouding her hands in a glowing, red hue. The same glow tinted the remainder of the Brotherhood. As Steve realized what she was doing, he turned with a shout, "No!" Before he could reach her, Lensherr and his people vanished off the hull.

The power fled her body quickly. Her irises rolled back into her head and she went limp in her brother's arms. Quicksilver lifted her. "I'm sorry," Erik's son said to Steve.

Steve pointed out to the empty span of ship where the Brotherhood was only moments before, "Where did she send them? Tell me!"

"I don't-"

"Where are they?!"

The silver-haired youth closed his mouth. Shaking his head slowly, he adjusted his hold on his sister, jostling her slightly in the process. "We never should have been involved here. I hope your daughter survives," he murmured.

Water seeped into the seams of Steve's boots. He blinked and moved away from the rising ocean. Quicksilver darted off so quickly that the only thing Steve saw were the crests of wake rising off the surface of the Atlantic.

"I'll be damned," Steve breathed, amazed the man was fast enough to run on water.

His amazement vanished in a swirl of anger. They'd lost Magneto and the only way to track him. Steve's shoulders slumped in defeat as he let his rage slip through his fingers. There was nothing he could do now. They would have to start from scratch.

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TBC


	16. The Path to War

Steve continued to back away from the rising water as he stared out in the direction Pietro had gone. For the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do. He had no idea where Scarlet Witch would've sent her father. The twins didn't seem like a threat anymore, but they certainly made things more difficult before they left.

Behind Steve, a very normal voice stated, "Oh, we're sinking. That's… fantastic."

Banner held up his shredded pants with both hands, smiling sheepishly at Steve when he turned. At Steve's confused head tilt, the doctor gestured at the rising water, "The… the other guy doesn't swim. It's basic physics, he's got too much muscle to stay afloat."

"Hulk's afraid of water?"

Banner risked letting go of one side of his stretched slacks so he could climb the stairs that led to the helm. It was the highest point and the only part of the boat left dry. "Wouldn't you be if you couldn't swim? I'd recommend you follow me. The undertow will suck you down in a heartbeat."

"How did you get here?" Steve asked as they climbed.

Water rushed in to cover the last of the lower decks. It splashed against the sides of the communications tower, the surf darkening the legs of Steve's uniform. The ship was going down faster with the majority of it underwater. Steve peered up to the top of the tower to try and calculate how much time they had left. It wouldn't be much, a few minutes at the most.

As the tower slanted forward, Steve leaned on the rail to keep his balance. He put a hand on Banner's elbow to steady him since the other man had to keep a grip on his pants, "I mean, if Hulk's afraid of water..."

They turned the corner of the stairs and entered the command center. Equipment was scattered everywhere. Bits of blackened technology hung out of displays and cabinets. All that was left of the windows were jagged teeth of glass rimming the sills.

Banner scanned the area for exits, "The other guy didn't take over until I got here."

"But Fury called, said you were missing. You usually don't vanish unless you lose control."

Casting a glance over his shoulder, Bruce pushed open a door that was labeled 'Roof Access', "I knew he'd stop me. In the city, I'd do more damage than good against the rioters, but you two needed a hand out here. Besides..." he held the door for Steve to pass by him and offered a weak smirk, "the other guy said we had to help. For once, I happened to agree."

The ocean air tugged at them as they stepped out onto the roof. A radio antenna drooped over the side, the base dark from an explosion like the rest of the tower equipment. Water spread out a few stories below them, rising quickly. From above, Steve could see the churning, frothing pull of the undertow. It circled the boat in a wide swath. Every direction he turned, the sky was clear. If anyone was headed their way, they were still far off.

A white spec in the distance drew Steve's eye. Small though it was, the shape suggested it was a boat. Banner pointed out to it seconds after Steve spotted it, "Actually, that's the speedboat I... borrowed. We'll never get out to it. The current around the ship is too strong."

Steve held out his shield, his gaze determined, "Bet I can."

Banner took the shield automatically, catching his pants as they slid down his hips. Adjusting his hold so the shield was strapped over his arm, Banner shook his head, "Betting is not ideal here. What am I going to tell Tony if you can't? Oh yes, I let your husband jump into massive undertow because he thought he could do it. He'd shoot me... and then I'd hulk out and he'd probably shoot me some more." Bruce waved his free hand dismissively, "Let's just not do that."

"You got a better idea?" Steve braced his boot against a broken electrical box and leaned out. If he jumped far enough, he'd miss most of the current.

Stripping off his gloves, Steve handed them over to Banner as well, "I should be back with the boat before you go under."

"That's comforting," Bruce mumbled with his arms full of Steve's gear.

Steve had to get back to Tony. He repeated it in his mind, he HAD to get back to Tony. The billionaire couldn't deal with losing both members of his limited family on the same day. Steve wouldn't put him in that position, he knew Tony would erode his liver in less than a week with liquor. The team needed them and Tony needed him. No matter what he said, Tony Stark was not impervious.

Steve hurried to the high end of the slanted roof, planning to use to angle to his advantage. He grabbed the edge and settled into a crouch as he considered the leap.

Stepping out of his way, Banner shook his head again, "This is a bad idea."

"We'll have to face the undertow either way."

"That doesn't help. It's still a bad idea."

Steve opened his mouth to argue and heard Barton's voice on his speaker, "I leave you two alone for five minutes and you sink a freighter. Go figure."

"You're late," Steve took a breath and slid down to where Banner stood. He put his gear on quickly.

"Sorry, honey, got caught up in a revolution. I'll get you some flowers to make up for it."

The SHIELD plane screamed in from the west. Its engines tilted down as it settled in to hover above them. Romanov stuck her head out of the open hatch and shouted something back into the aircraft before she dropped a ladder. The plane lowered closer to the roof so they could reach.

Steve climbed up first, making sure Banner managed to get on behind him. In the passenger bay they found a team of CK's waiting for them. Steve nodded to them, but they raised their guns as Bruce reached the top. The doctor stared at them with blank confusion before his face became guarded in a way Steve hadn't seen in over a year.

Steve stepped to block Banner and raised his shield, "Stand down. Bruce isn't going to hurt anyone."

The commander Steve recognized from the field motioned with the barrel of his gun. Steve warily watched the movement. "He disobeyed direct orders to stay on base," the man's pockmarked face twisted into sneer. "He put the mission at risk and must be reprimanded for it. Now, where is Erik Lensherr?"

"Reprimanded? He saved my life by coming out here today. This is ridiculous. Where are you getting your orders? Fury would never-"

"Director Fury is not in charge anymore. The Council has taken over command of SHIELD," the CK agent cut in.

Clint twisted in his seat in the cockpit and Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. "What? Is he serious?" Barton yelled over the engine noise.

Steve straightened up. Bone tired as he was, the news made him rigid with tension. The Avengers were Fury's pet project. They were HIS team and took orders from no one else in the field. The director understood them and how they fit together as a unit, Steve didn't want to report to anyone else. Steve didn't know much about the Council, but he knew they'd ordered the nuclear strike on New York City during Loki's invasion. He didn't want anything to do with them.

Steve jutted his chin out, returning the commander's sneer with a scowl of his own, "Director Fury already takes orders from the Council-"

"And frequently chooses to go against their decisions. They're simply removing the middle man." The pockmarked blond finally lowered his gun and his men followed suit, "Speaking of which, they want to see you when we get back to the carrier. We'll escort you to the meeting, Captain. You can tell them how you lost Lensherr."

Steve's glare intensified, but he knew better than to engage. If a single stray bullet caught Banner, the plane wouldn't be big enough for any of them. He gently urged the doctor in front of him and into the cockpit.

Bruce took the chair next to Clint, who looked a bit battered. Steve mentally amended that, they all looked battered. Natasha's leather-enforced costume had rips down the legs and across the shoulder while Clint had bloody, red abrasions from fingertip to elbow on his left arm.

The flight back was spent listening to the reports of his teammates. Magneto's words of revolution had spread far and wide. The riots were concentrated around New York, but there were riots all across the country. Thor and Wolverine had jumped from one fight to the next in the Burroughs until SHIELD's backup arrived. As far as Clint and Natasha knew, everyone had survived their encounters.

Steve leaned with his hands on either chair as he listened. According to their narrow intel, Clint knew that Cyclops's fight didn't go well. He was one of the last to receive assistance and Rogue was being treated at SHIELD's medical facility.

Closing his eyes, Steve thought about the massive changes they were about to face. Mutation was no longer a state secret. With Lensherr's spark, they'd made themselves known and Steve could only imagine the retribution that would follow.

Clint easily maneuvered the jet onto the helicarrier's landing strip. Deck crew swarmed out to latch it in place, their neon orange vests flapping wildly in the engine exhaust. Two CK agents flanked Steve as he left the cockpit. He glanced between them, feeling a lot like he was being taken to be court marshaled.

Natasha put a hand on her gun, her lips pressed together with disapproval. At Steve's slight finger gesture she fell back a step. He directed his voice at Bruce, "Go stay with Tony until I can get there."

"A-Alright," the doctor answered.

Steve strode through the aircraft carrier with his head held up and his brain on high alert. The Council's CK agents were everywhere. Steve saw the identifying patch on every man standing guard. They were at the major intersections and posted at the doors. They made him edgy, even more so now that Natasha broke the classified barrier and told Steve who they were.

CK translated to Cape Killer. They were the men trained to deal with fallen heroes. Steve had no idea there was a unit designated for such a purpose, but he doubted that even Fury had the clearance for the information. The CK's clearly belonged to the Council, making Steve feel like a prisoner in a place he used to call home.

They passed by the mess hall and Steve caught a brief glimpse of his friends and comrades. His eyes caught on Thor as they walked him past the wide, plate-glass windows. The Asgardian looked angry and it only seemed to increase when he saw the CK's escorting Steve. Wolverine stood and took his cigar from his mouth. When Barton and Natasha joined them, Clint started explaining, but Steve was left staring at bare wall as they passed beyond the windows. He heard Thor's angry retort, though he couldn't understand the words.

The agents led him deep into the ship and into a small room with six vertical screens. There was a desk at the head of the room with paperwork spread neatly on the surface. A pen lay on top of the page with a red seal stamped on it. As the CK's took up posts on either side of the door, Steve walked into the room slowly. He left his cowl on and kept his shield ready, not sure what to expect.

All six screens flashed with SHIELD's logo. It rotated once, the edges of the eagle gleaming like metal, and then shadowed figures appeared on each screen. They were all different and Steve scanned them with apprehension. He couldn't see their faces, only their folded hands on their desks and the hints of suits and blouses. One man tapped an expensive pen on the desk in front of him, clearly impatient or angry.

The man to the far left spoke first, "Was your mission successful, Captain?" His voice painted the picture of his face: older, probably scowling, but definitely American.

Their primary concern was recovering Annika. Steve doubted that these people cared about that. Reverting to the behavior he would use for any superior, he kept his responses tight and simple, "Lensherr was not recovered. He was wounded in the fight and the mutant codenamed Scarlet Witch used her abilities to teleport him to an unknown location."

They all made displeased sounds, some 'harumph'ing and others letting out snorts of air that were contemptuous. Steve stood taller and grit his teeth. His attention strayed to the paperwork on the table. He couldn't read it from where he stood, but there was something ominous about it. It looked like some kind of contract.

"We expected more from you and Mr. Stark," a woman near the middle sat back in her chair and all but vanished in the shadows. "Perhaps your emotional involvement with each other and that girl-"

"That girl is my daughter and I would go to any length to ensure her safety, but the mission was still my priority. Lensherr's escape was unavoidable. He will resurface and-"

The woman snapped, "Do not interrupt me, Captain. Your command of this team has already been drawn into question. I would suggest that you show respect to the Council if you expect to remain an Avenger."

Steve shut his mouth, his eyes burning with everything he wanted to say. He wanted to know why Fury had been removed from his position and why the Council thought they needed an army trained to destroy heroes. They weren't going to give him any answers. Natasha knew more than she should, but she always did, and Tony could get the rest of the information for them. For now, Steve stood at attention and stayed silent.

A man with a heavy Asian accent picked up where the shadowed woman left off, "The loss of Lensherr was unfortunate, but not the reason you are here today. In light of the recent events, steps are being taken to assure riots of this nature will not occur again. Before you is a document we would like you to sign."

Steve stepped forward to pick up the top sheet as the Council member continued, "As the head of the Avengers, being the first to sign would set an example for other super powered and altered individuals. We must find a way to coexist and this documentation will allow SHIELD to monitor individuals such as yourself..."

Steve didn't hear the rest. As he scanned the details on the page in his hand, a frown creased his face. He picked up the next sheet and kept reading. The farther he got, the more knotted his stomach became. He raised his head, "This requires that my identity be released to all government officials and mass media if 'deemed necessary'. I'm an agent of SHIELD. My identity is a state secret for good reason."

The American at the left said, "Consider your husband's open approach to his identity. It allows-"

"Tony never should've released that information. It's caused us more problems than good. People know where we live, where to find us, the name of our daughter. We're targets."

A third Council member, British, if Steve had to guess, responded quickly, "Your identities would be held on file almost exclusively for government use. We don't want our heroes under threat, we only want records of their abilities in case something... goes wrong."

Steve dropped the paperwork onto the table. None of it seemed right. The last registration he could remember was for Jewish individuals. Once their identities were on file, they were systematically hunted and destroyed. The past repeated itself and Steve could see it happening with remarkable clarity.

Turning away from the screens, Steve said, "No."

"Captain, when this procedure is written into law you won't have a choice. Better to sign it now and be the example for your fellow-"

"No," Steve gripped his shield and looked back at the Council, "My example is this: We have rights. It doesn't matter if someone is a mutant or human that happened to stumble into power. We have rights and forcing us to reveal ourselves is not going to happen."

"When it's law-"

"I'll fight it."

The Council went quiet and Steve stalked to the door. As the CK's moved to block him, he snarled, "Move or I will move you."

After exchanging glances, the pair stepped out of the way. Steve strode past them and headed for the hospital wing, the words of the Council circling his head like dark birds.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tony stared at the doctor with a vacant expression. He understood what he was saying, but some part of him refused to believe it. He'd been waiting for news for over an hour, pacing the halls in his armor. Now that he had a doctor standing in front of him, he couldn't think.

Pushing up his tortoiseshell glasses, the doctor leaned in, "Mr. Stark, did you hear me?"

The air felt stale in his lungs. He took a shuddering breath and asked, "You're sure? She could come out of it, right?"

His chest tightened and the ache he'd felt since the fight with Magneto doubled over on itself, magnifying and building. He numbly watched the doctor open a folder with his daughter's name taped to the front. The scotch tape was peeling at the corners. Gramme was embroidered on the pocket of the doctor's jacket. Tony had met him a half-dozen times and never noticed his name.

Dr. Gramme lifted a report from the folder, his tone regretful but professional, "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I've been over the results twice. There's no brain activity. In a coma, there would be minor activity that shows that the mind is still working. Those are the cases where a patient has a chance of recovery." He held out the report for Tony to see, flat lines spread across the sheets in various colors. "As you can see, there is no activity. Annika is in a vegetative state. I'm sorry."

Tony's knees went weak. Detecting his emotional state, the armor locked to keep him from falling. His head swam. His chest throbbed, pain shooting through his extremities. He wasn't sure if it was true physical pain or just a response to the news. It didn't matter. The only thing he could focus on was the fading image of Annika's smiling face. As the armor released its locks, he leaned against a wall for support.

Banner came down the hall in a jog. He was in a fresh pair of scrubs, but hadn't bothered to get his spare glasses from the locker room. Tony barely registered that he stopped to talk to the doctor. He could hear their voices, but he couldn't understand them. Suddenly, Bruce's worried face was in front of him. His lips moved and Tony caught the word "shock".

"…Tony?" Bruce said for possibly the fourth or fifth time.

Tony lifted his eyes, his hand closing loosely over Banner's arm. It was a failed attempt to ground himself. He couldn't feel anything through his glove. There was no body heat to nail down at least his sense of touch. His vision blurred.

Banner's words were obscenely calm, his fingers deftly removing his gauntlets and searching for the release catch on the shoulder plates, "He's bleeding massively. Get him to an operating room."

His skin chilled where the armor was peeled away. Everything underneath was soaked red. Shoulder, chest, he didn't know what it was. He coughed and robotically ran his hand over his mouth. As the doctors and Bruce stripped off enough armor to put him on a gurney, Tony called for his daughter. He thought he heard her answer, a faint cry in the gathering dark.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The television was muttering incessantly on the wall. Tony slowly opened his eyes. Recognizing the chrome and white walls, he knew he was in SHIELD's medical center. Tucked into the corner of the room was a television smaller than most of his computer monitors, the few he had left. There were two people on split screen arguing about something called 'Registration'. They kept flashing statistics and yelling how the president would approve it even if Congress turned it down.

Tony let his head fall to the side. Steve slouched in the uncomfortable bedside chair, several days' worth of stubble on his face. His husband was asleep for now, but Tony knew any sudden move or sound would wake him. The blond had the ears of a fennec fox, even if they weren't as large.

Strangely, the black and silver Iron Man helmet from his graphene suit was perched on the table where they normally kept Jell-o and water. Tony blinked at it, wondering. A thick multi-layered cord connected the helmet to his arc. He brushed his fingers over the uncovered arc reactor, light glowing coolly between his digits.

Rolling his head the other way, Tony took in a soft gasp of air. His frail, ghostly daughter was in the next bed over. The dark waves of her hair spread out around her head like a halo, the only color on the bleached sheets. Someone had taken the time to tuck her in snuggly. Her arms lay above the neat blanket, little more than twigs. It was nearly the size she was when Tony found her over a year ago, malnourished and huddling under a bed.

A series of tubes ran across her, the feeding tube and oxygen mask obscuring her small face. The mask was designed for someone grown since the SHIELD medical staff never dealt with children. Someone had fastened it to her skin with opaque tape.

Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat and whispered, "Annika."

"Yes, daddy?"

Tony's breath caught and he studied Annika's profile. She hadn't moved, not her lips, her eyelids, anything. It was possible he was hearing things, but it didn't bode well for him. Tony remembered what the doctor said before he collapsed, that her mind was dead. He wondered how much morphine they'd pumped into him.

A hand touched his arm and he jerked. Pain shot through him at the movement, forcing him to cringe and give a faint moan. The hand went to his cheek and a callused thumb stroked over his skin.

"Shh, sit still," Steve told him as he sat on the edge of the bed. "You're torn up pretty bad. You should stay in bed."

Tony collapsed in the pillows and clenched his eyes shut, rubbing his good hand over his face. The other arm wouldn't lift, but the thick bandages padding his shoulder gave him all the explanation he needed. He aggravated his wound to the point that they had to do more extensive repairs. Tony would find out exactly how much damage he'd done to himself later, for now, his mind was caged in grief.

"It's not only your shoulder," Steve said, his intuition always so spot on that he seemed like a mind reader. "Magneto shifted the shrapnel in your chest. The tear was small, but you were bleeding into your lung. They repaired it micro-micro..."

When Steve's brow furrowed in thought, Tony filled in, "Microscopically."

"Yes... that. Pretty amazing stuff," his lack of enthusiasm was at odds with his words.

Steve's hand brushed through his hair and Tony squeezed his eyes tighter. His throat closed at the small show of comfort, reminding him yet again what they'd lost. Choking on his words, Tony said, "Thought I heard Annika. God... please tell me there's news."

"You did."

Tony lifted his hand from his face and gave Steve a withering look. Instead of apologizing for the poorly timed joke, the soldier pointed at the helmet. The disembodied voice came from the built-in speakers, so soft when compared to the way it filtered Tony's conversations, "Hi, daddy."

Pain pushed aside, Tony sat up abruptly. He swatted away Steve's attempts to get him to rest, asking, "Annika? You... you're in my suit? Why are you in my suit?"

Steve finally planted his palm in the center of the arc reactor and forced Tony onto the thin mattress. Some of the shooting pain subsided as he settled on his back. When he didn't try to get up again, Steve's fingers returned to petting his hair absently.

The helmet was quiet for a few seconds before Annika answered quietly, "It doesn't hurt in here."

"She's stuck," Steve provided, his blue eyes flicking to their daughter's still body. "As far as we can tell, she overextended her power and caused some brain swelling. The swelling has gone down, but she still won't go back."

"What? Why not?"

"It hurts," Annika insisted in a whine.

Steve shrugged, "I can't figure it out. I've spent the last three days trying to convince her, so it's your turn now. Bribes haven't gone well either. I tried ice cream, Nutella sandwiches, chocolate, cannolis from Little Italy... She'd rather stay in there and play chess with Jarvis."

The helmet's eyes glowed brighter, paired with Annika's frustrated huff. Tony knew exactly the way she'd be standing if she was whole, with her little hands balled into fists at her side and her lower lip pushed out in a pout. "I like playing with Jarvis."

Tony checked the cords attaching the helmet to his reactor. The helmet could function without power for approximately an hour, but he didn't know what would happen if it went dead while she was inside. Clearly, Steve had the same concern. He wondered how the doctors worked around it while he was in surgery.

Reaching out, Tony took the helmet as Steve passed it to him. He settled the helmet on his stomach and held it between his hands. It was strange to connect the face of his armor with his daughter. The line coiled on the bed beside him like an umbilical cord. The thought made him screw his face to the side. He might as well be a blood relative to the girl for how close they were, but the idea of being 'mom' stabbed at his manhood.

Tony shook the notion and asked, "You can't stay in there forever. How am I supposed to teach you new things?"

"I can still learn stuff."

"Not if you're going to do anything hands on. How will we take you to the aquarium? You won't be able to touch the stingrays at the petting pool," Tony argued calmly.

Steve kissed his cheek and stood, "Went that route already. I'm going to get you some water."

"Scotch, please. No ice."

"Not going to happen," Steve replied as he left.

While he was gone, Tony argued semantics with Annika. Once Steve was back with water and something for Tony to eat, he tried to appeal to her logic. He struggled through that for almost an hour before switching over to more bribery, and then he attempted convincing that bordered on pleading. The only reason she would provide was that it was too painful to return to her own body.

Finally, when Tony was struggling to keep a level head through his explanation that physical pain was temporary, Annika said, "That's not it. In here, Momma dying doesn't hurt. I don't feel anything."

Tony and Steve both stared at the helmet. They hadn't considered Raisa. If she was on the ship, the Russian scientist would've fought Magneto with her fingernails to keep Annika safe. Finding Annika in the state she was in should've clued Tony into what happened, but he'd been too wrapped up in fearing for his daughter's life.

"Oh, honey…" Steve started, leaning forward in his chair. He lapsed into silence though his mouth was open as if he wanted to say more. Looking lost, Steve glanced at Tony for help.

Even on pain medication, Tony could put together the rest of the picture. Annika saw it happen, or at least saw the aftermath, which was the only reason she'd push her abilities to the point of unconsciousness. From what Steve told him about how she reacted to seeing Tony injured on the telecast, he knew her emotions controlled her power.

Tony wished he could gather her in his arms and hold her, let her cry. Instead, he sat staring into the glowing, inanimate eyes of Iron Man. "I'm sorry," he whispered, at the same loss of words as Steve. He had to offer her more than that. Wracking his mind, he said, "I lost both my parents when I was a year or so older than you. I know it hurts. It's always going to hurt, but eventually you realize that you will always have her love and she would want you to be happy."

He felt like a hypocrite saying it, but he wasn't going to touch on his father's flippant approach to parenting while he was trying to coerce Annika. Even with his tedious sincerity, she didn't respond. Tony's brow creased.

"Annika? I know this is hard, but staying in your father's machine won't help," Steve offered.

The faint trill of music answered him. It was coming from the interior speakers. Tony recognized the tune instantly, one of the songs from her seemingly endless library of kid's music. This one was 'Down by the Bay', an incredibly silly ditty that inevitably stuck in Tony's head after he heard it.

Tony lifted the helmet to look inside, "Annika, you better not have downloaded all that music onto my internal hard drives. Those are for flight data and video footage."

"Tony, don't yell at her right now," Steve sighed as he straightened up what was left from lunch.

Tony recognized the nervous habit. Steve would clean a spotless room if something was bothering him. For now, it consisted of re-stacking the empty trays from largest to smallest. Ignoring the compulsive organization, Tony argued, "I'm not yelling."

A soft chuckle cut their conversation short. Tony lowered the helmet to rest on his knee as Xavier wheeled into the room. Cyclops came in behind him, looking decidedly tense. With what was streaming through the news stations, Tony couldn't blame him. If they forced mutants to register, it would change the way they lived.

On the other hand, Tony could see the value in keeping track of super human abilities. It had the potential to help mutants too. They could offer training programs for young mutants, teaching them ways to control their power. Since Tony didn't think that was the reason for their visit, he didn't bring it up.

"I hear you have a very unusual problem with your daughter," Charles said with a warm smile.

The professor maneuvered around Annika's bed with effortless grace and situated himself between them. Without any guidance from Xavier, Scott picked up the control pad for Annika's hospital bed. He hit a button and the hydraulics hissed a long exhale as the bed lowered. When it was within Xavier's reach, he delicately touched her forehead.

Turning the helm in Xavier's direction, Tony snorted, "Unusual is a bit of an understatement. She's barricaded herself in with virtual chess and We Sing Silly Songs."

The song changed in the middle of a verse, switching over to Six Little Ducks. Tony thought he heard Annika singing along. Since she'd shut off the external audio, it was hard to tell.

Xavier hummed in response, "Interesting. The channels to receive her are open. Perhaps I can give her some guidance. I will need the helmet."

Hesitating slightly, Tony handed it off. He fed the power cord out hand over hand, making sure there was enough to reach Xavier. The mutant bent over the helmet and closed his eyes. Silence built in the room until it was suffocating. Tony picked at the tattered hem of the sheet covering his legs, alternating between watching Xavier and checking on Annika. He worried that the tubes would make her panic if she woke, though her body would be weak after days of comatose.

Steve came around to sit beside Tony, his hand reaching blindly to wind in Tony's fingers. Tony squeezed fiercely enough that the skin around his IV pulled painfully. If this didn't work, Tony wasn't sure what they could do. Their daughter would be an AI, a floating entity that could only exist in networks and on hard drives. Stomach rolling, Tony sat up on his elbow in the hopes to ease his nausea. This time, Steve didn't stop him.

"Logan, you shouldn't let Marie drain so much of your power. You know how she gets," Xavier said with a smirk, not raising his head.

Tony glanced up to find Wolverine leaning in the doorframe. There were shallow marks all over his face and hands, which was unusual considering his ability to heal. Considering Xavier's comment, Tony realized that he must've loaned his ability to heal to Rogue. What he was seeing was the aftermath. Logan's powers hadn't recovered fully.

Wolverine shrugged, "As long as you keep the cigars away from her she'll survive. Ain't nothing wrong with a little attitude in a girl like her."

Dropping his arms to his side with an aggravated sigh, Cyclops crossed over to check the wounds. "She was going to be fine," Scott scolded him with something verging on fondness.

Wolverine didn't comment. He nodded toward Annika, "How's your kid?"

"It's complicated," Tony muttered.

Minutes passed and Xavier's concentration deepened. His brows dipped and shadowed his eyes. Tony glanced at the clock, his toes curling under the sheets. It was taking too long. Cyclops nudged Wolverine's arm and the two men stepped out into the hall. Their quiet conversation never went far from the door, becoming a hum of background noise in the thick silence.

Unable to sit still, Tony flung his legs over the side of the bed opposite Steve. The soldier tightened his grip on Tony's hand and looked up. There must have been some warning in Tony's expression, because he let Tony get out of bed.

His chest burned at the slight increase in his heart rate, but subsided once he was standing. Tony grabbed his IV rack and wheeled it with him as he went to Annika. Steve followed with the chair and the power cord, undoubtedly worried that Tony was going to collapse. Tony let him hover. His poor husband spent days hunched in that chair waiting for the two of them to wake up, he should be allowed to dish out extra coddling until they left the hospital.

Tony walked slower than normal. His body wasn't ready for this and he knew it, but he needed to be near his daughter. He was desperate to hug her and hold her. Keeping with Tony's pace, Steve lifted the cord over the beds and Xavier so it never once jarred loose from Tony's chest.

"Sit down," Steve said when Tony reached the bedside.

Not in the mood to argue, Tony did as he was told. Steve scooted him closer, picking up the chair with Tony in it to move him. Tony rested his good elbow on the bed, leaving his other hand folded limply in his lap.

"Come on, Annika," Tony murmured as he reached out to rub her arm, "Come on, baby girl. Wake up."

Steve stayed at his back, a wall of warmth and worry. His fingers trailed rhythmically along the narrow patch of Tony's skin between his shoulders where the hospital gown didn't quite meet.

"Come on, baby," Tony repeated, his voice heavy.

Xavier straightened and turned his clear gaze to them. Slowly, a smile pulled up the corners of his lips and Tony's heart soared.

"Get one of the doctors," Steve shouted into the hall.

Tony stood and leaned over her, stroking her hair. His eyes watered, tears falling only once Annika stirred. Tony laughed as her dark lashes lifted. He kissed her forehead and moved back so Steve could do the same.

When she reached up to touch the mask, Tony crooned, "We'll get that off, don't worry. Just be still for a minute."

A pair of nurses in matching gray scrubs hurried into the room. Shooing Tony out of the way and berating him for being out of bed, they swarmed around Annika. They took off some of the equipment, sitting her up to remove the feeding tubes so she wouldn't choke.

While they checked her vitals, tears welled up and spilled down her face. She gave Tony a pleading look, reaching between the nurses for him. It took an act of extreme will, and Steve's arm hooked around his stomach, not to push them aside and gather her against him.

Once they determined that she wasn't critical condition, the medical staff cleared the room and told them that a doctor would be in later. The moment he was loose, Tony sat on the bed and wrapped Annika in his arms. Lifting her into his lap, Tony pressed his cheek against the top of her head. Her face brushed his stitches, but he didn't care. Tony held her as tightly as he dared. Both wept, overwhelmed with joy and sorrow, relief and the lingering tendrils of fear.

Somewhere, in what seemed like another world, Steve thanked Professor Xavier. Tony felt the mattress dip beside him and Steve's arms encompassed them both. His husband tucked his nose behind Tony's ear, his soft, even breaths ruffling Tony's hair.

As unusual and unexpected as this family had been, Tony realized in this moment that it was so much more than he'd ever imagined. He spent years swearing off commitment and the complicated mess of child rearing. Somehow, he'd fallen in and learned, not only could he keep his head above water, he thrived here.

The mechanical whir of Xavier's powered wheelchair made Tony lift his head. He smiled at the mutant and opened his mouth, but Xavier lifted a hand to stop him, "You're welcome. And the donation isn't necessary, Mr. Stark, but if you want her to enroll, I'd recommend you start looking for a house near the school."

Telepathy did streamline things, Tony thought.

"It does. Now, I'll leave all of you to celebrate," Xavier said as he rolled through the door. Cyclops and Wolverine fell into step just behind him, only Scott turning to wave goodbye.

Tony reached for the controls to switch of the television since it was muted anyway. For now, the battle over super human registration vanished from their lives. Annika drew back and wiped her palm over one eye. It didn't help, so Tony used the edge of a sheet to dry her face.

"You scared us, baby. You're going to need to learn how to control that talent of yours," Tony murmured as he rubbed the last of her tears away.

Steve asked, "Apparently we're going to upstate New York to do it?"

With a wince, Tony nodded. He often forgot that informing his husband of major decisions was a good idea. "Why not? You seemed to like the campus and you've never been fond of the tower."

"Oh, you know, I just like to be aware that I'm moving."

Tony made the argument that they could have a yard and more land and privacy, all of which Steve seemed to favor. Mostly, Annika was excited about having an ocean of grass she could run in anytime.

"We could get a dog," Steve suggested, though Tony steadfastly ignored the idea.

Annika distracted them from it very quickly, "Or a sister," she cried with glee.

Tony and Steve went quiet, exchanging a glance. They'd never discussed it. Considering that they could barely keep a handle on one child, Tony started to nix it, but Steve said, "We'll see."

Tony raised an eyebrow and smiled.

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End

So, there was going to be an epilogue, but I'm not so sure it needs unanswered questions are left that way intentionally. Magneto and his Brotherhood will now go on to the third movie in the X-Men series, for those of you following the timeline, and the rest is headed toward one of the more controversial Avengers story arcs.

Really, this is set up for a potential third book, but I'm going to be taking a break (I know I said that last time and ended up writing this right away…) If you want an idea of what the third one was going to entail, think Civil War, meets slash and family drama, toss in my usual love of extreme violence, and somehow find a happy ending because I hate sad ones. Thing is, I'd like to work on some of my original stuff so that continuation may or may not happen at this point. I hope you all enjoyed it what's here, I'm so glad I got the chance to share this story with you.


End file.
